


Heart Bond

by TigressDreamer



Series: Clan Mcgallrigh [2]
Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 20:13:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 52,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17925563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigressDreamer/pseuds/TigressDreamer
Summary: A routine job turns into something more as Constable Marianne Zephyr crosses path with Bogart Mcgallrigh and his two sons. Lies, pain, and sorrow haunt their lives but maybe they're just what each other needs. (Rated M to be safe. Companion to Badge of Valor [NOT SEQUEL])





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I finally finished this!!!!! I really hope I got the rabbit holes all covered but if not, then go ahead and point those bad bunnies out. I'd mull over this longer but I know that if I don't declare this finished then it'll probably never get finished and I won't be able to work on any of my other long story ideas...Now, onto the circus.
> 
> There is a lot of trauma-related material being discussed throughout the story. I'd give more warning but I'm not quite sure how to word it at the moment.
> 
> Apologies for any misconceptions about the Scotland setting. I couldn't find enough reliable research material to give me clear understandings about the procedures but I couldn't bear to relocate them to America.
> 
> This story is not truly connected with Badge of Valor other than them being in the Mcgallrigh clan. That being said, the Mcgallrigh boys should really stay away from parties.
> 
> Disclaimer for the entire story: Sadly, I do not own Strange Magic, although I do have the DVD that I play once a week. All events, names, and places are coincidental. Enjoy the story!
> 
> All finished...for now. I do have a plan to revise and possibly re-edit the story in the future but for now, it's available for enjoyment. Constructive advice is appreciated but please refrain from criticism.

The sound of tires squealing fills the air as a grey truck speeds around the street bend sharply and other vehicles veer out of its way. The sound of police sirens and honking horns deafens the night air. A peaceful evening is disturbed at the ruckus as rain falls steadily from the sky.

"I'm invincible!"

"Slow down and pull over! Ye're gonna get us killed!"

Another street bend lays within the speeding truck's path and this time the driver loses control. Tire's squeal, glass breaks, and crunching grey-painted metal cause a moment of silence as onlookers watch in horror. One, two, three, fou...Pedestrians and police alike run to the crushed vehicle. Blood trickles onto the street and the rescuers rush to push the metal entrapment off its side. Prayers are heard over the sound of ripping metal and sirens.

* * *

Swiftly walking into the infirmary, thirty-six-year-old Bogart Mcgallrigh heads straight for the ICU ward and barely manages not to run. His short black hair is in disarray as he traverses the corridors in a quick pace aided by long lean legs but he pauses at the ICU ward's doors. He hated being in the infirmary and the last time he went through these particular doors was before his nineteenth birthday. He chokes down the tears that want to rise at the memory. His last memory of his father being alive.

"No," he mumbles. "It ain't like then. They will be fine."

He shakes himself and forces his feet through the dreaded doors. Heading to the nurses' station gives some relief at a familiar face but it's a relief that doesn't last at the worry upon the redhead's face.

"I really hope ye weren't speeding, Bog," the nurse chides gently.

"I wasn't," Bog defends. "How bad is it, Elinor?"

"Bhaltair has a concussion and we're going to keep him overnight for observation," Elinor answers.

"And Beathan," Bog asks, noticing her hesitation?

"I had to give the doctor permission to operate," she answers lowly. "We weren't able to contact ye or Aunt Griselda and he needed immediate surgery."

"I trust yer judgment," he reassures. "That's why I put ye down as our emergency contact. I know ye wouldn't allow something that didn't have to be. How is Beathan now?"

"Ye better sit down," Elinor motions, grabbing a patient chart.

Bog heeds his cousin's request and accepts the chart she hands him. Shock courses through him at the innocent words upon the sheet of paper. Numbly, he hands the chart back to her.

"There was too much risk if they didn't operate," Elinor mentions.

"How is Beathan," Bog questions again?

"Recovering," she reassures. "His stats are stabilizing and the doctors expect him to awaken in a few."

"I should have been here," Bog groans, scrubbing his hands across his face.

"This happened near nightfall and ye're at a job site fifty kilometers away," Elinor snorts, lightly hitting his shoulder. "Yeah, that would have looked really good for ye to speed the whole way here with the traffic officers here."

"They're already here? I would have thought they would have waited until morning to question the lads," Bog mutters.

"They created more than a few road violations with this accident and it's classified as a near-fatality," Elinor remarks. "The doctor gave permission for Bhaltair to be questioned a little while ago, so they're in with him now."

Bog nods before moving to stand up but Elinor's hand pushes him back down.

"Ye don't want it there, Bog," Elinor warns. "Angelina came in soon after the lads were brought in and she's in a fouler mood than usual."

"Does she know about Beathan's condition," Bog asks?

"The doctor tried to tell her since she does have the right to know but she wouldn't hear anything after finding out about Bhaltair's concussion," Elinor answers. "As bad as it is to admit it, ye know as well as everybody else that she doesn't care about Beathan and never has."

"Be that as it may, I do care about Bhaltair and I'm going to see how my lad is," Bog comments, pushing himself to stand again.

Elinor sighs before nodding and leading him to Bhaltair's room. The sight of one of the officers hovering near the door make the pair exchange looks. It's never a good sign when a member of Police Scotland looks like they'd rather be anywhere else. It's also not good to be able to hear a heated conversation when you're still a few doors down. Elinor quickens her pace and with all the professionalism she can muster, informs the room's occupants to settle down or face expulsion.

"This is all your fault," Angelina growls as Bog enters the room! "You and that undisciplined son of yours. Just look at my poor baby."

Bog barely keeps from laughing at Bhaltair's disgruntled expression and rolling crystal-blue eyes. Even with a bandage around his head, it's clear that the red-haired teenager is unhappy with his mother's doting and cooing. A quick look at the traffic officer inside the room gives a notion that she completely agrees with the boy.

"You are Bogart Mcgallrigh, the boys' father," the officer asks?

"Yes," Bog starts.

"Some father," Angelina interrupts. "Letting his son hurt my son and getting him in trouble with the law."

"Our sons," Bog growls lowly! "Bhaltair and Beathan is both of our sons!"

Angelina opens her mouth but shuts it when Elinor warns her about calling security if she keeps disturbing the other patients. Bog ignores his once-love and moves to the other side of the bed.

"How are ye, Bhaltair," Bog questions gently?

"Just a few bumps and bruises," Bhaltair mutters. "Doctor says I'll be out tomorrow, providing nothing happens tonight. I'm gonna go home with Mum. Can you bring my stuff here tomorrow, Bogart?"

"Yeah, I'll bring yer stuff here," Bog mumbles. "Get some rest and I'll see ye in the morning."

Bog squeezes Bhaltair's hand before leaving the room and walking back to the nurses' station. He ignores the familiar sting at his son's refusal to call him anything but his given name and instead focuses on the relief at the boy's healthy state. The sound of steady footsteps alerts him to the officer's presence.

"How much trouble are the lads in," Bog asks, turning around to face the pair?

"A lot. I'm Constable Marianne Zephyr and this is Constable Brutus McGee," Marianne introduces before sighing. "They're looking at a high possibility of getting their license suspended and a large fine."

"Both lads," Bog questions?

"Yes," Brutus answers. "We retrieved both of their cell phones at the crash-site and there is clear evidence that they both used them while the vehicle was in operation."

"The lads know better than that," Bog growls, passing a hand through his hair.

"The text was sent to and from you, Mr Mcgallrigh," Marianne mentions.

"What? Ye mean to tell me that they were already driving when Bhaltair texted me," Bog asks?

"Correct," Marianne answers. "I take it that you did not know that?"

"Of course not," Bog defends. "I would not have sent the answering text to Beathan had I known that they were already in the truck. The lads argue almost constantly whenever they're together and I thought that this was just one of their normal scuffles."

The conversation comes to a halt as a doctor approaches the trio to inform them of Beathan's consciousness and with strict instructions to not wear her patient out, she leads them to his room. The closed-door seems to loom before the anxious father like a portal to a bottomless abyss. Those seemingly innocent words written on that chart resurface in his mind like a warning.

Bog shakes himself and opens the door. The black-haired teenager's pale skin shows a multitude of bruises and the sight of his prone form makes tears fill Bog's crystal-blue eyes. Groggy crystal-blue eyes open as the visitors enter his room but they fixate on his father before narrowing.

"Get out," Beathan murmurs.

"Bea...," Bog starts.

"Get out," Beathan yells! "I hate ye! This is all yer fault!"

Elinor rushes into the room at the commotion and forces the struggling boy back against the bed, clicking her pager for more assistance. Beathan's continued thrashing and yelling cause Marianne to offer her help in holding his chest down while Elinor hurriedly pulls back the blankets to check the bandages. The sight of his son's missing legs forces Bog to leave the room and he collapses against the hallway wall in tears and heart-crushing guilt at the screams echoing down the halls.


	2. Chapter 2

"Ye're not going to be able to question Beathan tonight," Elinor comments. "The doctors had to sedate him heavily."

"Inspector Andrews will understand. The lad had quite a shock, after all," Brutus remarks. "We'll be back tomorrow and if there are any changes to his well-being that might affect our investigation, please inform us at once."

"I'll make sure the other nurses understand," Elinor reassures before looking around. "Where is Constable Zephyr? I wanted to thank her for her assistance. She did extremely well in calming Beathan down."

Brutus looks around for his younger partner before spotting her near the nurses' station. A bushy brown eyebrow raises at her casual demeanor with Bog and he smothers the grin wanting to surface. He was beginning to think that she batted for the same team after three years of watching her snub every male that tried to date her. Brutus motions Elinor toward the scene before walking toward his preoccupied partner.

* * *

Marianne hands the warm coffee to the man before her as he struggles to stop the tears from falling. It was heartbreaking enough watching Beathan become hysterical and then feeling for herself his weakened form under her hands as she tried to restrain him from hurting himself more. Her own amber eyes had filled with tears when she walked out of the room to see his father collapsed to the floor in his own grief. Helping Bog to his feet was a bit difficult to do with his seven-foot-four stature against her five-foot-six height but doable compared to trying to soothe his despair when she could feel it in herself. Clearly, this case is going to be more complicated than just two teenage boys defying society and breaking the laws.

"Asking if you're going to be alright sounds rather stupid at the moment," Marianne remarks. "If you're up to it, though, I would like to ask a few more questions that would help my partner and me to understand the full cause of this accident."

"I'll help ye if I can but all I know is the lads were at a party and were heading back to my house since I have Bhaltair this weekend," Bog mumbles, sipping the warm liquid.

"You said that your sons argue constantly whenever they're together. It would be most helpful to our investigation if you can explain their normal behavior around each other and around other people," Marianne explains. "Miss Tussle wasn't all that cooperative and the only thing we managed to get from Bhaltair Mcgallrigh is that somehow this whole incident was caused by Beathan Mcgallrigh. Is this normal behavior for the twin brothers?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Bog sighs. "Bhaltair lives with Angelina and Beathan lives with me. It wasn't a problem when they were younger but as they grew older, they just started fighting. They don't get into physical fights, mind ye, but they don't get along. They're both good lads, though."

"Beathan is a good lad. Bhaltair can be a right bampot," Elinor interjects. "Don't try to deny it, cousin. Angelina lets him do whatever he wants as long as it doesn't bother her."

"Is it normal for one lad to be able to bait the other into doing something," Brutus questions?

"No," Bog admits. "Usually, one will do the opposite just for spite."

* * *

"This case is bothering ye, Meri," Brutus comments after he drives onto the main road.

"I know what I'd like to put on our report but it's against protocol," Marianne mutters. "Even though we haven't gotten Beathan Mcgallrigh's statement, it's quite clear that the one that should take full responsibility for this whole thing is Bhaltair Mcgallrigh."

"I know what ye mean," Brutus agrees. "Bhaltair's statement was riddled with faults from his denial about using his cell phone while in a running vehicle to Beathan goading the reckless speeds. He completely disregards the fact that he was the one driving and the first one to use his cell phone. The text was a clear indication that Beathan tried to keep his brother from driving but Bhaltair made no mention of that or the text."

"There is also the clear indication that neither mother nor son even cares about the state of that poor boy," Marianne growls. "I can't believe she told the doctor that she didn't care if he was hurt and that he deserved whatever he got. How can she call herself a mother?"

"We're to be impartial, Meri," Brutus reminds. "Our job is just to determine the cause of the collision and assist the Justice in determining who will be appearing in the court. As it stands, both lads will be appearing for traffic violations and it is the Justice who will determine their punishment. We'll return tomorrow after our shifts start to try and get a statement from Beathan."

"And if he's still not up to it," Marianne questions? "Having both his legs amputated from below the knee might put him in a condition that he won't be able to handle our questioning or the trial. Is it lawful to put him in a position that could very well deteriorate his well-being?"

"There is no clear answer for that," Brutus sighs. "We'll just do our jobs and if the doctor feels that Beathan's condition is too fragile then the Justice will delay the hearing until he can appear in court. Though, I will suggest to Inspector Andrews that it would be advisable that both lads are kept apart for the time being."

Marianne nods her agreement as Brutus expertly navigates through the rain-slicked roads. She keeps her eyes alert for any sign of trouble but her mind drifts back toward the infirmary and the small family. Even making their report, signing off at work, and returning to her studio flat can't get her thoughts away from three pairs of troubled blue eyes.

"Late! Late!"

Slamming her hand over her mouth to muffle the laughter does no good and she quickly shuts her door. Throwing her purse onto the entry-table, Marianne places her hands on her hips and glares at the pair on top of her bed. It does no good.

"Late! Late!"

"Hush, it's night time. You know the rules," Marianne mutters, shaking her finger.

The male Major Mitchell's cockatoo flares his crest before falling down and rolling onto his back while the female Major Mitchell's cockatoo flares her crest and bobs her head. Light chuckling draws Marianne's attention away from the quirky pair to her kitchenette. The older woman's presence in the recliner is startling but the off-duty officer notices the large set of keys on the counter, keys that she always saw with the landlord.

"I don't mean to be rude but who are you and what are you doing in my flat," Marianne questions?

"I'm Griselda. Alastair is my nephew," Griselda explains, shutting the book she was reading. "Yer neighbors called him about yer little ones making a racket and they noticed that ye hadn't come home at yer normal time. Alastair was tied up and asked if I would come and babysit yer little ones to get them to quiet down."

"See the mess you two got us into," Marianne groans, glaring at the unrepentant pair and dragging a hand through her short brown hair. "You're going to get us kicked out."

"Late! Late!"

"I know I'm late and you two need to go to bed," Marianne grumbles. "Puck, Plum, go to bed. Now!"

Griselda chuckles as the two cockatoos obediently walk to their cage and get in, even shutting the door behind them. She watches as the young woman changes their food and water before covering the cage. Barely holding back the loud laughter at the sound of snores coming from underneath the blanket, Griselda places her book into her handbag and lifts herself out of the chair.

"Thank you for looking after them. They're usually more behaved than this and I'm sorry they caused everyone an inconvenience," Marianne insists.

"I usually babysit the Moluccan cockatoo that my sister, Alistair's mother, owns and he can have real temper tantrums. Yer two are very well-behaved, so it wasn't any trouble at all," Griselda reassures. "And don't worry. Neither Alastair nor yer neighbors are upset about their antics. They were more worried about ye not coming home at yer normal time."

"There was an accident right before I signed off," Marianne admits. "No one was killed, so that's a blessing."

"But something about it is bothering ye," Griselda mentions, chuckling at the woman's look of surprise. "A mother can sense these things. I have to or I would never be able to understand my lad, private man that he is and all. Here's some advice. Follow yer heart, it's got more knowledge than yer brain and if ye can understand it correctly then ye'll never be led astray. Now, I best be off, my lads are probably in a tizzy by now."

"Thank you again for getting them to be quiet," Marianne remarks. "Did you drive here or can I offer you a lift home?"

"I rode the bus here but don't ye worry. I need to give Alistair his keys back and he promised earlier to give me a ride home," Griselda comments. "Have a good night."

Marianne smiles fondly as the elderly woman leaves before sighing as the homey feeling disappears with her. It's been over nine years since she had that comfort. A quick shake dispels the distressing nostalgia and she focuses her attention on cleaning her bedspread. Seems the mischievous pair had blackmailed their impromptu babysitter for peanuts in return for silence and a look toward their treat jar gives her a reminder that she needs to go shopping before work tomorrow.

Munching on a late dinner of fruit while getting ready for bed, Marianne's thoughts return to the Mcgallrigh father and sons. Griselda's familiar advice rings out once more when Puck quits his fake snoring to come out and steal a slice of apple. What's the harm in making a nonwork-related visit? It isn't against protocol to just stop by and see how Beathan is doing after she's done shopping.


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm home," Griselda announces softly.

Bog looks up from his place at the kitchen table and pushes back the mug of cooled tea. He was beginning to get worried when he came home to find his mother's note of doing a favor for Alastair and that she still wasn't home. It did explain why the infirmary couldn't contact her, though. Accepting the motherly kiss, Bog grabs her hand to keep her from wandering off.

"What's wrong, Bog," Griselda questions?

"Where've ye been," Bog evades?

"One of Alastair's tenants has a pair of cockatoos and she was late in coming home because of trouble at her work, so the little ones were having quite a loud fit. A big problem since a few of the other tenants has young children that needed to be getting ready for bed," Griselda explains. "Alastair asked me to come over and babysit the cockatoos to get them to quiet down. He brought me home after she came home."

"I'm surprised Alastair even lets her keep the noisy things with how much he dislikes birds," Bog murmurs. "Is he going to boot her out?"

"Why do ye think he asked me to go quiet them," Griselda chuckles, removing the scarf off of her greying red hair? "And no, he isn't going to boot her out. Everyone was more worried about her not being home at her usual time and that the poor little ones were going to worry themselves into a tizzy. He told me on the way home that the other tenants forget that she even has the pair because they're usually quiet except in the morning. He said that nobody has needed to set an alarm clock since she received them six years ago because they have a habit of giving a loud and kooky enough wake-up call that not even children wanting to skip school can pretend they're sleeping. Alastair may dislike birds but he says that even he can't be unhappy with the pair or their pretty owner."

"No matchmaking," Bog warns, catching his mother's emphasis!

"Ye've refused to date one lass since the Angelina incident, stating that it'd be unfair to the lads for their da to be seeing another woman besides their maw," Griselda comments. "Ye have no excuse now that the lads are eighteen and are capable of taking care of themselves."

Griselda pauses in her speech as she notices her son's flinch. That wasn't a normal reaction to his frustration at her continued persistence. Though, now that she's looking back, she didn't see Beathan's truck in the driveway when Alastair pulled up. Marianne's uniform and explanation for being late rises up in her mind. She really hopes that worried feeling that she's had all evening isn't what she now thinks it is.

"Where are the lads," Griselda questions softly?

"There's been an accident, Maw," Bog admits. "Bhaltair was speeding, ignoring the police, and then he lost control of the truck. The lads are...okay, though. Bhaltair has a concussion and a few abrasions. He wants to go home to his maw, so I'll be packing his stuff up and taking it back with me. Beathan is..."

Bog sighs roughly and scrubs his hand through the stubble on his jaw. Elinor assured him that she would keep an eye on Beathan throughout the night but it still bothered him to be at home without his son. It doesn't help matters that even drugged the boy didn't want him near.

"Beathan got the brunt of the damage," Bog comments. "Elinor works tonight and she had to give the doctors permission to operate because they couldn't contact either of us. They had to do some surgery on his heart and amputate both of his lower legs."

"Oh, my poor little lad," Griselda moans! "How is Beathan handling it?"

"They had to sedate him soon after he awoke from the surgeries because he went a bit hysterical," Bog sighs. "Earlier, Bhaltair had texted me that his brother wouldn't let him drive and I texted Beathan to stop being a brat. Beathan blames me for the accident and he said that he hates me."

"It'll be alright, dear," Griselda reassures, hugging her distressed son. "He's just in shock right now and doesn't mean it like that. Are ye going back to the infirmary now?"

"Elinor kicked me out and told me not to come back until I get some sleep," Bog murmurs. "She said that she'll keep an eye out for both of the lads and contact me immediately if anything happens. The doctor is expected to discharge Bhaltair in the morning."

"Then let's try and get some sleep," Griselda remarks. "Everything will be easier to handle after some sleep."

Reluctantly, Bog heeds his mother's advice but he finds sleep an elusive creature once his head hits the pillow. Images of Beathan flash through his mind, from the fragile infant that he brought home from the children's infirmary to the toddler years that he swore the lad was trying to kill him with worry before settling on that dreadful image of the young man that he raised screaming at him while legless and restrained by sturdy hands. Silent tears soak the pillow at the remembrance. His last thought as the darkness finally takes over is that he forgot to thank that officer for being so gentle with his lad and that he must remember to when she comes back tomorrow.

* * *

"Beathan, ye're going to have to talk to me," Bog murmurs, trying to get the teen's attention.

Beathan stubbornly keeps his head turned away. He'd rather not get sedated again but he definitely didn't want to deal with his father. It was frightening enough to wake up this morning to find out everything was real and now everything is topsy-turvy. He didn't know what to do.

Griselda sighs at the scene. They came to the infirmary just as the doctor discharged Bhaltair and though it was heartbreaking to watch him dismiss his own father, at this point, it is normal behavior. There were days the older mother could just throttle that woman her son once loved and days that she wished that their relationship didn't happen or at least that the woman didn't stick around at all once the boys were born. This is a red-letter day for that. Especially with Beathan still showing enmity to his father, something that isn't normal behavior, and even her gentle persuasions are ignored by the injured teen.

"Hello. Do you mind a visitor," Marianne asks after knocking on the door?

"Constable Zephyr! Uh, what are ye doing here," Bog questions?

"I wanted to check in on Beathan Mcgallrigh, if that's alright. I was quite worried about you last night," Marianne remarks to the shocked teenager.

"Ye...Ye was worried about me," Beathan stutters? "But ye don't even know me."

"That doesn't stop me from worrying about you," Marianne chuckles. "You don't have to know someone to be able to care about them."

"Maw didn't care, she never does," Beathan mumbles sadly, looking down to his bandaged hands.

"No offense but your mother is a witch with a capital b," Marianne comments.

The room's occupants blink for all of two seconds before laughter fills the solemn atmosphere. Beathan winces a bit as his stitches pull a little too much for the pain medicine to prevent but he can't find himself to be gloomy as the plain-clothed officer immediately frets over him. He waves off her worry about getting a nurse and leans back against the bed.

"I'm fine," Beathan reassures before wincing again as he moves his legs. "Relatively anyway. Do ye want my statement about yesterday?"

"I'll get that later when I return with my partner, so let's avoid any talk about that," Marianne remarks. "Now, how are you feeling today?"

"Terrible," Beathan grumbles. "The doctor said that I'll be stuck in the infirmary for at least a fortnight and then I have to stay home for another fortnight or maybe two."

Griselda chuckles lowly at the familiar pose as Beathan crosses his arms and scowls. There is no denying that he is his father's son, whether he likes to admit it or not.

"If ye haven't noticed, he hates being still," Griselda comments, getting the younger woman's attention. "Hello again, dear."

"Oh, hello, Miss Griselda. I'm sorry. I didn't notice you there," Marianne admits sheepishly.

"That's alright," Griselda chuckles. "I guess it's hard to notice another woman around when there are two handsome lads to gaze at instead."

"Gran!" "Maw!"

Bog scowls and crosses his arms as the two women merely giggle at their embarrassment. He loves his mother, he swears that he does, but there are days that she seems to forget that he is a grown man and he is sorely tempted to ship her off to one of the relatives. Though, he can't stay mad for long as he notices that Beathan forgets that he's mad at him and turns to him to point to the giggling women in exasperation. The return to familiarity doesn't last long but it does give Bog hope that maybe his son is still his son.

"Might I ask how ye two know each other," Bog questions after the giggles end?

"She is Alastair's tenant whose cockatoos I was babysitting last night," Griselda explains. "That reminds me. I remembered this morning that I left too quickly and forgot to clean up that mess those two left on yer bed. I'm sorry about that. I tried to give them the peanuts in their cage but they carried it the whole way there and refused to let me clean it up."

"Don't worry about it. They do that," Marianne chuckles. "I've even tried locking them in and they still waited until they manage to escape to eat the peanuts on my bed. It's even worse when I'm able to buy walnuts or pecans."

"Ye have cockatoos," Beathan asks?

Marianne nods and takes out her wallet. She smiles as the teenager forgets his troubles for the moment and stares at the picture she hands him. Maybe he'll be alright after all. He's clearly a resilient young man.

"They're both Major Mitchell's cockatoos," Marianne explains. "The male is named Robin Puck Goodfellow and the female is Sugar Plum Fairy."

"Seriously? Why'd ye name them that," Beathan chuckles?

"Their first owner did," Marianne remarks. "He was a classic literature professor and had raised them both from chicks."

"How did ye get them," Beathan questions, rubbing his finger over the pictured birds?

"I was still a nurse at the time, working in this very ward, and the poor man didn't have any living relatives left, just the birds. He was so worried about them each time he was admitted for treatment and to ease his mind, I offered to visit them where they were being taken care of until his return home. They were his children for nearly forty years and he couldn't bear the thought that they might be taken in by someone who wouldn't treat them kindly. So, he willed them to me when he died," Marianne answers sadly. "That was six years ago."

"I thought that I'd find ye here, Meri," Brutus' voice rings out.

Marianne looks down at her watch and swears. It took her longer to shop than she thought. She rubs the back of her neck and looks sheepishly toward her partner.


	4. Chapter 4

"Constable Zephyr," Bog calls!

Marianne turns around from following Brutus out of the ICU ward and misses the older man's sly smile. Her partner's remark of waiting in the patrol car after retrieving her shopping bags causes confused amber eyes to follow his form out the ward doors. 'What is he up to,' she wonders silently before shaking her curiosity away?

"Yes, Mr Bogart Mcgallrigh," Marianne murmurs.

"Bog," Bog corrects. "I'm not all that fond of my first name."

"But doesn't bog also mean a toilet," Marianne questions?

Bog covers his mouth to keep the loud laughter in. It's funny how this strange woman could manage to make him laugh at such a distressing time. The memory of Beathan's smile in his sleep reminds him of why he stopped her from leaving.

"That's British slang actually," he manages, his laughter turning into chuckles. "I don't want to keep ye from yer work but...well...um...feel free to visit whenever ye like. If ye want to, that is."

"You don't mind me coming to check up on your son," she asks?

"Yer gentle with my lad and I would like it if ye visited. I think it'd do him good," Bog states. "Ye've managed to make him laugh and smile."

"Alright, Mr Bogar...Bog Mcgallrigh. I'll visit when I can," Marianne promises.

Marianne ignores the fluttering within her breastbone at the man's tentative and relieved smile. Silently chastising her hormones, she bids her farewells and follows Brutus' path out of the infirmary. It doesn't help when she notices the suspicious smile gracing her partner's face as he drives toward her flat.

"What are you up to," Marianne questions?

"Nothing, lass," Brutus murmurs. "What did ye think of Beathan's statement?"

"Far more enlightening than his brother's statement, that's for sure," she remarks. "At least we now know how everything fits together. It also explains why Bhaltair Mcgallrigh didn't want to give a detailed description of the events because there isn't anything that he can lay the blame on his brother. Beathan Mcgallrigh even admitted to using his cell phone without us needing to inform him that we already know."

"His reason was a viable one and the Justice might have mercy on him since he didn't do anything with it other than check to see if the incoming text was important," he comments. "We'll file the rest of our report after ye change into yer uniform."

"How much trouble am I going to be in," Marianne mumbles?

"Don't worry, Meri," Brutus reassures. "Inspector Andrews and I had figured that ye were at the infirmary, so I signed ye in when I did. With yer instinct and heart, we knew that there was no way that ye'd wait to visit the lad. Good thing that ye did, too. Ye got him comfortable enough to give his whole statement before he became too tired."

Marianne beams gratefully at him before exiting the parked vehicle, grabbing her shopping bags and quickly entering her flat. Plum flies onto the counter as Marianne puts the purchases away and she hands the cockatoo a freshly washed carrot. Puck abandons his quest of searching the television stations to fly over and demand a carrot for himself.

"You two be good today," Marianne orders, dressing in her uniform. "I'll try not to be late tonight but if I am, don't cause a ruckus. Understand?"

She chuckles as Puck grabs Plum's carrot and runs away with the angry female in hot pursuit. So much for an intelligent conversation. After saving the defeated male, Marianne gives him some scratches before setting him back down near the remote control. She scowls at Puck's next television pick but ignores it and gives Plum her scratches. Giving them a warning to not rot their brains, she exits her flat and quickly heads back to her waiting partner.

"What'd yer children do this time," Brutus chuckles?

"Puck found a station showing reruns of American programs. Have you ever heard of Barney and Friends," Marianne asks?

"He'll rot his brain," Brutus mutters.

* * *

Marianne hums along with the music playing as she fixes her dinner. There is nothing she enjoys more than being able to relax before bed after a long day at work. Of course, with that relaxing, the mind is able to think about things that were easy to avoid while busy. She sighs as her thoughts drift back to Bog, Bhaltair, and Beathan. It should be easy to put the matter away from her now that her duties with them are done but her heart refuses to listen to logic.

Beathan's statement was clear evidence of how the events transpired. His suggestion that Bhaltair didn't drive home was not stemmed from selfishness but concern because of the falling rain and Bhaltair's inexperience at driving since their mother did not own a vehicle. His reluctant surrender because of Bhaltair's insistence and using Bog's promise of him driving the truck to outweigh caution. His admission of checking his phone but only as a precaution that it might be important, which led to his brother's gloating at the message of admonition and the consequencing crash.

But even with the full truth, she can't shake the feeling that not everything is as cut and dry as it appears. It's not concerning the accident that bothers her the most, though. As much as Bhaltair is to blame for the events, Marianne can't help but wonder if he's truly the real blame for his actions and if just punishing him according to the law would even help him or just make things worse for the teenager.

"It isn't like he had much of a chance to answer our questions yesterday, anyway," she mumbles, draining the pasta and placing some aside.

The returning irritation at the boys' mother makes her task of opening the sauce jar so much easier and her heart pangs at the remembrance of both boys' expression. It wasn't hard to see that under Bhaltair's annoyance was a longing. A longing for something that his mother isn't giving him and it is the same longing that Beathan has. Something that she knew all too well.

Noticing movement out of the corner of her eye, Marianne quickly moves the remote control into the overhead cupboard as Puck tries to change the channel and giggles at his hiss.

"You've had the tv on all day. I'm home, so we're going to enjoy the music instead," she comments to the grumpy bird. "Be patient and I'll give you some pasta once it's cooled down."

The promised pasta doesn't satisfy the pair but she resists being intimidated by their stares as she eats her dinner. Forget puppy-dog eyes. That doesn't have any strength compared to the unblinking demands of a bird. But they weren't getting her garlic bread and that is final...okay, maybe a bite.

"You two are so spoiled," she murmurs. "The weatherman says that it's going to be nice and I have the day off. Do you want to go visit Tadhg and Saundra tomorrow?"

Plum chirps and twirls around while Puck jumps up and down in excitement. With mixed emotions, Marianne watches as the pair run to the cabinet beside their cage to pull out their leashes. It is enjoyable to see them so happy but at the same time it also sad. She gently takes the leashes from them and reminds them that it's too late to go tonight. They accept the extra cuddles and scratches in exchange.

'If only every hurt feeling is as easy to soothe.'


	5. Chapter 5

"Hello, Mr Mcgallrigh," Marianne greets, noticing him ahead of her.

"Hello, Consta...ble...Ze...Zephyr," Bog stutters.

Marianne tries to keep her laughter from bursting out at his shocked expression after he turns to face her. Even if she is getting used to those kinds of looks during an outing there is no way she'd be able to find them any less funny. His expression shifts as she catches up to him and his blue eyes alight with understanding.

"For a moment there, I almost thought that ye had a bairn," Bog chuckles.

"A natural assumption since I am pushing a stroller," she comments.

Puck and Plum squawk in impatience and throw their toys at the mesh barrier when Marianne stops walking. She sighs before slowly continuing her journey but smiles as Bog falls in step beside her.

"How is Beathan Mcgallrigh doing today," Marianne asks?

"At the moment he is sleeping and the on-duty nurse kicked me out. Calli said that she didn't need two despondent patients on her watch and I was to enjoy the nice day while he slept," Bog remarks. "Beathan's wounds are stable but..."

"His mind isn't," Marianne guesses at his rough sigh?

"He had a great shock and no one is expecting him to be bright and bubbly but he seems to be more depressed than when he first woke up or even yesterday," Bog comments. "The doctors don't want to put him on anti-depressants along with the other medication he needs but they already discussed that if he doesn't become a little more responsive in a few days than they'll have to for his own good. It doesn't help that he still won't speak peaceably to me when he even speaks to me at all."

"Did you two have a good relationship before," she questions?

"Somewhat," he admits. "He only got upset with me about things that I wouldn't allow him to do but things that he saw Bhaltair and the other children doing. Other than that, we were really close since I raised him."

"Did you or the doctors ever tell him that he has pediatric hypertrophic cardiomyopathy," Marianne asks?

"How did ye figure that out," Bog questions in shock?

"About his heart condition or the fact that he doesn't know that he has a heart condition? I have a great weakness for curiosity and I couldn't resist peeking at Beathan Mcgallrigh's chart when the doctor tried to inform Miss Tussle of his condition," she admits. "It seemed odd about an eighteen-year-old needing heart surgery after a car accident and the doctor was holding the chart close enough to read. I'm guessing about him not knowing but it seems to be a logical explanation for his attitude compiled from what you just said."

"Ye're right," he sighs, following her blindly as she turns the corner. "Beathan doesn't know. It was a conversation that I just didn't know how to start. They were born a little early and because of that, the doctors noticed his condition right away. Otherwise, it may have been years before the symptoms appeared but by that time I might have lost my lad."

The cockatoos' excited squawking causes Bog to look up and their destination makes him uneasy. This is the last place he wants to be at right at the moment, especially dwelling on such thoughts. He watches as Marianne grabs the birds' halter leashes and lifts the stroller opening. Instantly the happy birds fly out to land on the two tombstones in front of them with their cheerful chattering filling the cemetery. Bog takes a closer look at the tombstones when the pair land onto the ground and snuggle against the stones in affection.

"Tadhg Bryant and Saundra Bryant," he reads aloud. "Half a moment. I know them! Professor Thang and Professor Stuff!"

"You studied under them," she questions, giving the birds their desired scatches?

"Not I but a great many of my family did, including my maw," Bog answers. "They were very well liked by the Mcgallrighs. Do ye mean to tell me that ye got these birds from Professor Thang?"

"Yep," Marianne confirms. "He told me that he brought them to the funeral when his wife died because they were their only children left. I felt that it was only appropriate to bring them to his funeral too and bring them to visit whenever I can. They enjoy coming."

Noticing Marianne's trouble in petting both birds at the same time while also holding their leashes, Bog holds his hands out to Plum and she lets him scratch her head. He can almost feel the weight upon his heart melt with each chirp and squeal and click the birds make under their attention.

'An odd place for heart therapy but it works,' he muses silently.

* * *

Bog peers around the studio flat with interest as Marianne places the cockatoos' things away. He notices a picture face down on the side table and picks it up with the thought that the birds had knocked it down. A younger Marianne stares back at him in the midst of four other people but even with her smiling face, Bog can see something is missing in her amber eyes.

"I see you met my family," Marianne remarks. "My parents and my younger sister."

"Who is the man standing beside ye," Bog question?

"The son my parents never had," she answers quietly. "I'm surprised that you even recognize me since that picture was taken ten years ago when I was twenty-six."

"Ye're thirty-six," he states in shock before blushing at her laughter! "Well, it's just that even Maw thought that ye're in yer early twenties."

Bog blushes harder at the reminder of last night's conversation with Griselda and her usual matchmaking. He had managed to get her to stop when he commented that he wasn't going to date a woman that was young enough to date his sons. Not to mention, that she probably already had a sweetheart, anyway. He nearly had a heart attack himself when he saw her pushing a stroller earlier and his mother would be gleeful if she knew that he was relieved when he discovered that the cockatoos occupied the stroller instead of a baby.

"I'm still thirty-five, actually," Marianne chuckles. "My birthday isn't until several more weeks."

"I'm worried to ask but I'll do it anyway. If ye're twenty-six in this picture, how old is yer sister? She looks to be in her younger teens," Bog comments.

"Dawn was fourteen when that picture was taken. She's twelve years younger than me and is now twenty-four," Marianne murmurs. "Well, we better get going or Beathan will think we're not coming, Mr Mcgallrigh."

"Bog," he corrects, watching her place the picture back face down.

"Bog," she amends with a smile.

With curiosity about her family ringing in his head, Bog is a mostly silent companion on their trek to the infirmary but it isn't an uncomfortable silence that surrounds the pair. On the contrary, it's a comfortable enough atmosphere walking by her side that it makes Bog uncomfortable. He's only known about her for three days and he's never been this comfortable with anyone that wasn't a member of his family this fast, not even Angelina.

'Can't talk to Maw,' Bog muses silently. 'She'll have the wedding invitations sent out as soon as she can order them, that is if she doesn't have them already.'

"What is it," Marianne questions at his snickering?

"Nothing," he mutters quickly! "I was...uh...just thinking something about my maw."

"Griselda's a charming woman," she mentions. "Though I'm guessing from your laughter that she can be a real hoot too."

"That she is," Bog chuckles. "She doesn't let the bad things in life keep her down. Maw is also the most stubborn woman ye'll ever meet. Good thing too or I'd never known my da. It does have its unfortunate side, though, and I apologize in advance for anything she hints at."

"Meaning her unsubtle inquiry to my landlord this morning," Marianne murmurs.

"What! What did she do," he asks?

"I stopped by at Mr Codwell's flat before I left for the cemetery to apologize for the cockatoos' ruckus and he was rather distressed by a phone call he was on," she explains. "He told me that he would only forgive me if I told him my relationship status which he relayed into the phone's receiver with the added remark of, 'Are you satisfied, Aunt Griselda'. I can only assume that he also informed her of where I was headed since he was still on the phone when I left and he knows where I go when I take Puck and Plum out."

"That sneaky gobliness," Bog accuses! "That's why she stayed home today and I bet she also called Calli to have me accidentally meet up with ye. Ye didn't get any subtle remarks from anyone from yer work, did ye?"

"No," Marianne comments slowly. "Should I have?"

"If Maw is up to her usual matchmaking tricks then expect them. Sometimes there is a problem with being related to nearly half the city in one way or another and the Mcgallrighs are a closely-knitted clan, so we keep in touch with each other," he mentions.

"Are you related to my partner by any chance," she questions?

"His daughter married my granda's brother's great-grandson two years ago and before ye ask, Inspector Andrews' brother is married to another Mcgallrigh cousin," Bog explains. "I think there are seven Mcgallrigh cousins in this police division and ten that are married to a Mcgallrigh cousin. That's not counting those that are related to them."

"What exactly should I be expecting? I'm not going to let a few well-meaning relatives scare me off from visiting Beathan but I would like to be prepared," Marianne remarks, not noticing Bog's look of relief.

"That all depends on what yer co-workers think of ye," Bog comments. "If they like ye then we'll be badgered until one of us gives in to their demands and asks the other out on a date. If they don't like ye or they don't think ye'd be a good match then they'll do everything possible to keep us apart. After Angelina...well, the clan has made sure that that will never happen again to any one of us."

"Even if they don't approve of me, that won't keep me from making sure you and the boys are alright."


	6. Chapter 6

"I like her," Griselda comments as her son enters the house.

Bog looks over to his mother in confusion. After spending most of the morning with Marianne and then with her and Beathan all afternoon, his brain was only registering a certain brunette. It doesn't help that Griselda doesn't look up from the book she's reading which makes it hard to guess her thoughts. He decides that it's better to be safer than sorry around the elderly Scot.

"Ye like who, Maw," Bog asks?

"Marianne Zephyr," Griselda states. "I like her, I do, but I don't know if she'll be a good match for ye."

"What," Bog questions loudly, shock coursing through his body?

Griselda places her book down with a sigh before looking up at him. She was sure that with how attentive the woman was with her son and grandson that she would be perfect but a few inquiries makes her now think otherwise. Her boys have been through enough and they don't need any more trouble.

"I'm sure that ye already know that I contacted a few relations and I found out quite a few things about her," she remarks. "Marianne is American-born and has only been in Scotland for nine years."

"I know that. She told me over lunch," Bog admits, sitting down in the chair across from her. "I ran into her after Calli kicked me out of the infirmary and we talked for a while."

"Did she also tell ye that she has only been a member of Police Scotland for three years, not counting the two years of training, and before that she was a nurse in the infirmary for almost four years," Griselda asks?

"Beathan asked her when we came back to the infirmary. He remembered her comment yesterday about how she got the cockatoos and asked her about why she stopped being a nurse," he answers. "Marianne told us that it wasn't her dream."

"Why would someone get a doctorate degree in nursing and not even want to do it," she mutters?

"From the way she said it, I think one of her parents wanted her to do it," Bog murmurs.

"That's a part of what worries me," Griselda mentions. "I found out from Jason that he checked into her when she became a member of the Road Policing Unit. He was suspicious of her at first, being the Inspector of the Investigation Unit and all. He thought it odd that an American would take a lower paying job than what she was worth and contacted one of the cousins in the police force in America. Marianne Zephyr left America with no warning over nine years ago, leaving her family only a vague note and she hasn't been in contact with them since."

"I had an inkling about that," he mumbles. "I mean, with her not being in contact with her family. I saw a picture in her flat and though she answered my questions, I could tell that talking about them distressed her. We mostly avoided the subject of her family during dinner but she did tell me about some of her life in America."

"Dinner? Ye already took her on a date," she questions in surprise?

Griselda chuckles as her son's skin flushes a bright red. Apparently, he didn't want to let that cat out of the bag just yet. Even if she is worried about the possible damages a relationship between the pair could inflict on her boys there is no way that she couldn't appreciate that Marianne managed to get Bog to open up a little. But if only she could be sure about the woman.

"Shocked Beathan, too," Bog mutters, scratching the back of his neck. "I told him that since he didn't want me there, then I was going to take Marianne to dinner. The lad had the gall to question me how dinner went when I returned after since he seems to forget that he is mad at me whenever Marianne is concerned. Before ye ask, dinner went nicely and we talked a little more about ourselves."

"Did she also tell ye that when she left America that she also left her fiance standing at the altar," Griselda asks?

"No," he answers slowly. "But to be fair, I haven't really told her about Angelina, either. It's only our first date, Maw."

"I don't want ye to get attached to her. If Marianne left once then she could very well leave again," she murmurs, laying her hand against Bog's cheek. "Promise me that ye won't become serious with her until ye're sure that she will stay. I don't want yer heart to be broken again."

"When the time comes then I'll make sure we both air out our pasts, so that we both go into a relationship without carrying something in that shouldn't be. Is that a good enough promise," he questions?

"Alright, as long as ye're careful," Griselda remarks. "I do like her and I really hope that she will stay."

"Me, too," Bog admits softly. "We won't be able to go on another date for a while, though. The doctor informed Beathan this afternoon that they're going to move him out of ICU tomorrow since there were no complications and then the therapists will start helping him adjust to the changes. He was less than thrilled when they informed me to be present for the therapy. There is going to be trouble if Beathan still refuses my help when it's time for him to come home. I know I told ye that I didn't want ye to do anything with my lads except be their gran but I'm going to need yer help, Maw."

"Of course I'll help," she reassures. "I dealt with yer da, the stubborn man, and I can deal with yer son, who takes after his da and granda."

"That's what I told Marianne," he chuckles. "Most of our talk during dinner was actually about Beathan. She was concerned about how we are going to adjust, especially with the way he is acting. I told her about the house Da was working on when ye and he were newly married, about it collapsing on top of him and them needing to amputate his left arm. She laughed when I told her that ye were too stubborn to listen to his despondency and told Da that ye were going to stay with him whether he liked it or not."

Griselda laughs fondly at the memory. It had taken her a few weeks to get through to Lachlan that she didn't think him a lesser man because of the injuries he sustained and it was tough going sometimes. She had managed to hold her temper at first but one day she just had enough of his depression and told him in no uncertain terms that she wasn't leaving. Though she be but little she be fierce and the giant man shrank under her onslaught until he calmed her down with his timid acceptance. Finding out a few days later that she was pregnant had helped his attitude tremendously.

She glances over to the photo hanging on the wall. Lachlan stands proudly while holding a younger Bog, his perfect miniature, in his remaining arm as they laugh about a joke that's been told. If only that accident didn't also damage his ability to have more children but at least they had Bog and Lachlan was so proud of him. He was ecstatic when he found out about Angelina being pregnant, even though circumstances were what they were, and he was looking forward to meeting his grandchildren with more enthusiasm than even Griselda herself. Unfortunately, life has been a little hard on her family with one heartache after another and now it has dealt its hardest blow onto one of her grandsons.

"I know ye're trying to protect me, Maw, but my heart says that we can trust Marianne," Bog murmurs. "I don't know why she left America or left her family or left this fiance that ye heard about. I just know that her heart is good and strong."

"In all fairness, all the relatives that know her personally all replied with good thoughts about her, even Jason," Griselda admits. "I know that she is a good lass and I'm just worried about ye and Beathan becoming more attached to her than she is to ye."

"She is attached to us already and her behavior shows it," Bog comments. "Marianne knew about Beathan's heart condition since that first night because she was concerned about him and checked his chart when the doctor was close enough for her to read it. She knew about him for less than a day and she cared more for him than his own maw. She even brought Beathan a gift today, a few pictures of the cockatoos since he was interested in them and one of the pictures has them holding a get-well sign. Marianne also figured out that Beathan doesn't know about his own condition and gave me a sound lecture for it over lunch. Ye'd be proud of her, Maw, she's quite terrifying and she's only four inches taller than ye."

"I told ye that ye should have told him when he was old enough to understand," she remarks through her chuckles.

"Nothing was stopping ye from telling him," he mutters. "I know that I need to but if I start that then I'll have to tell him everything. It's going to be hard enough telling Marianne about it all. How do I tell to my lads that their da is no better than a reprobate?"

"Bogart Humphrey Mcgallrigh! I'll not have ye talking that way about yerself," Griselda scolds, smacking her son's shoulder! "Ye're not a reprobate! Ye're a good man and if yer da was alive, he'd take ye out back and give ye a good walloping for yer foul mouth."

Bog nods his acceptance of his mother's chastisement but he can't help the dread that rises up at the thought of what he'll soon have to do. He couldn't bear the thought that his sons might hate him for good once they find out the truth.


	7. Chapter 7

Marianne hands off a piece of sliced celery to Puck before adding the rest into her pan. Cutting the carrots prove to be hard with a pair of thieving beaks but with practice born from years of experience, soon the julienned vegetables join the other ingredients in the pan. Munching on the leftover sliced apples while frying her dinner, Marianne lets her mind drift back through the past week and a half.

Her talk with Bog during lunch that first time had given her a lot of insight about the father and sons. Maybe she was out of line to lecture him about keeping Beathan's heart condition a secret but Bog bore the brunt of her scolding with a good attitude and even explained his reasons for it. 

_"I didn't want Beathan to be outcasted from the other kids as being different," Bog started. "It was better that they called me a spoilsport for all my rules of what he wasn't allowed to do than for them to not even want to play with Beathan because of his condition."_

_"But keeping him from knowing could have put him in danger," she had pointed out. "He could have had trouble and they wouldn't have known what was wrong."_

_"There wasn't any danger," he reassured. "At least, not when he was younger and obeyed the rules I set for him concerning his activities and diet. His cardiomyopathy was very mild when it was discovered, so much in fact, that if they weren't checking the lads' hearts as a precaution with them being born early then they never would have discovered it until he was at least in his teens when it would have progressed to a dangerous level. The doctors prescribed him some medication and a heart-healthy lifestyle as a way to prevent the cardiomyopathy from progressing. It's worked for the most part because each test showed no signs of progression."_

_"Beathan never questioned why he had to take his medicine or go to doctor visits," Marianne asked?_

_"Not really," Bog commented. "As I said, the only thing Beathan had a complaint about is when the rules I set for him interfered with his playing in the other lads' games. He was very compliant to my wishes, though, and never broke them. I didn't know how to tell him when he got old enough to understand about his condition and he never asked the doctors. I guess he just got used to going there enough that he wasn't curious of why he went."_

That was as far as their conversation got before Puck maneuvered himself closer on the bench they were sitting at and tried to steal a piece of Bog's sandwich. If she didn't do it herself then she would have called the man a loony for lecturing the cockatoo on etiquette but that didn't stop her from laughing heartily when the unrepentant bird tried again.

It wasn't equal to her laughter at his confession on the way to her flat of his full name and why he dislikes it, though. 

_"I don't care if Bogart means orchard and Humphrey means peaceful warrior, I'd rather not be known for being evil," he complained. "I know he played a few good-guy roles but Da and Maw liked his older movies because they went to a theater playing an older movie of his and that's how they met each other."_

She thought it was cute when he confessed that he didn't really mind the name so much but that he got teased relentlessly by some older kids who knew who the actor was and by other kids who thought he was named after a boggart. It was also embarrassing to have a name that represented your parents' first meeting.

Transferring her cooked food onto her waiting plate, Marianne catches sight of the face-down picture and lets out a sigh. She knows that she should tell him because it wouldn't be fair to any one of them to go into a relationship while she's carrying baggage but it's just so hard to bring up the subject.

"Guess I understand his trouble in explaining things to his sons more than I thought," Marianne mutters.

Beathan's questions when they arrived at the infirmary that day almost made her confess everything but then the doctor interrupted. She couldn't find the courage to bring it up during dinner with Bog, either. Good thing that Bog was as concerned about Beathan as she was or the man probably would have thought that she had a thing for his son with all her questions about the boy. Then again, it seemed like he was also avoiding telling her something but she couldn't blame him.

They didn't really have a chance to talk more in-depth when she visited before she left for work for the rest of the week. Not only because time was short but it wouldn't have been fair to ignore Beathan. It was a bit guilt-inducing to think that they were exploiting his terrible circumstances as a way to date each other but the lanky teenager didn't seem to mind. If anything, Marianne would swear that he is trying to set her up with his father. Their conversation on her day off four days ago sure seemed to hint that after a heartbreaking start.

_"He doesn't care," Beathan mumbled._

_"That is a lie and you know it," Marianne murmured, looking pointedly to the sleeping man draped uncomfortably in the hospital chair. "Your father loves you. He's lived and breathed in this infirmary since your accident."_

_"Ye don't understand," Beathan remarked softly. "Da didn't even want us when Maw told him that she was pregnant and in the end, he took me because I'm the eldest, the heir and all."_

_"Your father told you this," Marianne questioned?_

_"Maw did," he admitted. "Neither Da nor any of the Mcgallrigh family talk about that year because Granda died a few weeks before we were born."_

_"I'm not going to call your mother a liar because I don't know what happened but even if your father didn't want you before you were born that doesn't mean that he didn't want you after you were born," she countered. "People may think that they want one thing and then turn around they decide they want something else."_

_"How are ye so sure that it isn't Da trying to get back at Maw for whatever reason they didn't stay a couple," Beathan grunted?_

_"Truthfully, I don't," Marianne stated. "But do you really believe your father is that type of man? He raised you by himself for eighteen years. Griselda even told me two days ago that he refused to let anyone raise you but him or your mother and that he was determined that the only woman that you would see as your mother is your mother. I've been around a lot of spiteful lovers in my life and if your father was one of them, then he would have been smarter to marry the next girl that came around and have her raise you. That would have been a more painful blow."_

_"Ye applying for the job," Beathan quipped._

The cheeky teenager had started snickering at her flushed face before she joined him in full laughter as Bog snorted himself awake.

The dazed man was not aware of their conversation and it wasn't repeated on her next short visits. Beathan's lack of faith in his father still stirs unease in Marianne's breastbone and she can't keep his look of dejection as he talked about it out of her mind. It was as if it was painful for him to even consider that his father didn't love him which meant that the idea is a new one.

"Doesn't take a genius to guess where he got it from since he named the culprit," Marianne mumbles, taking a bite of her dinner.

It was a good thing that she and Griselda had that talk beforehand or she would not have had an acceptable answer but she's unsure how well she managed to help the boy. The only thing they really talked about was how close father and son were before the accident and how good a father Bog was to both his sons or tried to be in Bhaltair's case. There was also the subtle warning that Marianne had better not be playing either Macgallrigh man with false or misplaced compassion.

Griselda's surprise interrogation was kind of expected from what Bog had warned her about but Marianne is quite sure that her superiors violated a rule or something when they allowed the mother to corner her while she was working. Not like Brutus was much help since he was the one who drove her to the impromptu trial and his warning afterward was a little nervewracking.

_"Ye need to be careful and don't get into a relationship with Bog unless ye really mean it, Meri," Brutus remarked, pulling out onto the road. "Scots don't take a threat lying down and the Mcgallrighs are true Scots. Ye best be sure that ye don't hurt any member of that clan because they're very protective of their own."_

_"I don't plan on hurting anyone," Marianne commented. "Bog and I already talked about taking it a little slow to make sure that we don't make a mistake. He's told me that he doesn't want to get serious until all his ties with Angelina are done as a way to make sure that she can't interfere in our lives. I'm not about to let a spiteful woman or well-meaning relatives scare me off."_

_"Ye should be worried. The Mcgallrighs have more than just well-meaning relatives on their side," he started. "This is an ancient land and it still has its unexplainable happenings that science can't make heads or tails of. During the wars with the English, the Mcgallrigh's ancestral home Caisteal Coille Dorcha was destroyed like most Scottish castles were but within a fortnight every man of the English battalion that had a part in Caisteal Coille Dorcha's destruction was dead. They were not killed on a battlefield or even by normal human means. The Mcgallrighs are connected to the otherworld and all those who wrong them will face punishment."_

_"I never pegged you for the superstitious type, Brutus," she teased. "If that was really a threat then how come Angelina has done all that she has done and gotten away with it?"_

_"It ain't superstition, Meri, but hard cold facts," Brutus denied. "Angelina is protected only because of Bhaltair and Beathan and that protection won't last much longer. She'll get her comeuppance soon enough."_

Even though she brushed Brutus' warning off with a reply of not leaving Bog unless he himself specifically told her to go, the first thing Marianne did when she returned home that night was a little internet research on the Mcgallrigh clan. She wasn't able to find too much but what she did find was clear evidence that Brutus' warning was thoroughly justified. Not that it is going to stop her but like she told Bog, she'd rather be prepared.

Then there is the whole matter of Bhaltair, who has remained absent the entire time Beathan was in the infirmary. It was clear from the talks of Bog and Griselda that although the boys weren't as close as they should be and argued a lot it was common for the brothers to have contact with one another at least every day. It doesn't make any sense to her that the other teenager seems to be entirely uncaring of his twin. Yes, the Justice did inform both brothers in their letters that they were to remain separated until the court hearing but it didn't restrict all contact between the two.

Marianne just can't shake the feeling that there is something deeper to this whole ordeal. Something more wrong than a relationship that went bad. Something more that caused the twins to be separated and slowly to become enemies to each other and to their father. Maybe Brutus is right, after all.

"Maybe I should have a talk with Griselda again," Marianne remarks.

A soft knock causes her to look up from her task of washing the dishes and she quickly opens the door.

'Speaking of the gobliness.'


	8. Chapter 8

"You want me to what," Marianne questions incredulously?

"I'm asking ye if ye'd be willing to stay at our house for a little while to help us out," Griselda repeats. "As you know, Beathan is still refusing Bog's help and that will cause a lot of problems when the doctor discharges him tomorrow. I told Bog that I'd help him as much as I can but the lad is still tall even without his lower legs and I will have too much trouble trying to carry him."

"Why are you asking me, though," Marianne asks?

"For several reasons," Griselda starts, counting off with her fingers. "Ye are a certified nurse with plenty of experience in dealing with stubborn patients. Ye already proved that ye can handle Beathan's temperament. Beathan likes ye and listens to ye, as proved when ye managed to get him to follow the therapist's instructions when he was being defiant."

"All of that I know," Marianne remarks. "That, however, does not really explain why you're asking me. I've heard enough comments about the Mcgallrighs being a close family and I'm sure Beathan would listen to any one of them just as well."

Marianne barely keeps from laughing as the elderly woman laughs sheepishly and squirms like a child caught doing something naughty.

"There is also the fact that if ye're truly serious about being with my lad then ye're going to have to get used to the fact that Beathan won't be leaving his da's care for quite a while and ye'll probably be helping him sometimes anyway," Griselda admits.

"This is another one of your tests then," Marianne states, holding up her hand at the other woman's protest. "I can understand you being protective. Even if I don't know all the details with the boys' mother I know enough that she hurt Bog badly and is still hurting him by using the boys. But, Griselda, Bog and I haven't even really had a chance to talk much about a relationship between us. We've been trying to keep Beathan from being depressed about the changes in his life and it might not be a good idea to get Beathan attached to me if we're not even sure if we will work out. Just visiting him in the infirmary for a few hours isn't the same as staying with him every day. I don't want to hurt Beathan anymore than I want to hurt Bog."

"That is why I want ye to come," Griselda murmurs, smiling softly. "Ye already have a mother's heart for the lad and I'm not so old that I cannot see that ye've probably had that type of heart since I gave ye that advice that first night. Ye care about him more than his own mother. Angelina hasn't talked to him or visited him once and ye've visited him every day."

"Does Bog know that you're asking me this," Marianne questions?

"No," Griselda admits. "Bog has been Beathan's exclusive carer since the day the lad was born and he's prepared to take care of him even with all the venom that's filled the lad's heart but I don't feel that forcing Beathan to rely solely on his da while he's upset will help him. It might very well make him more bitter."

'Might as well get some of my questions answered,' Marianne muses silently before opening her mouth. "Do you know when Beathan started feeling angry toward Bog?"

"I'm not sure. He was the same as always the morning before the accident," Griselda remarks. "He may have been a little disgruntled about having to pick Bhaltair up at Angelina's house but he did it without any real complaint since he knew Bog couldn't pick him up that day."

"Doesn't Beathan usually go to his mother's house? Both you and Bog told me that Bhaltair stays at your house every other weekend but you didn't tell me when Beathan stays with his mother," Marianne comments.

"Angelina didn't care much about spending time with Beathan, so he never stayed at her house. Bog never trusted her with him, either, because she has ridiculed his concern over Beathan's heart condition, which is something that she refuses to believe that he has," Griselda grumbles, her irritation at the absent woman very plain. "Usually, Bog is always nearby during the times that he insisted that Angelina spend with Beathan. Whenever Bhaltair came to stay at our house for the weekend, Bog would be the one to pick him up and take him home."

"But the morning of the accident he couldn't pick Bhaltair up," Marianne mumbles.

"Bog tries to not work when Bhaltiar is staying but he had to work that day, so he asked Beathan to pick him up instead," Griselda mentions. "The lads had discussed going to that party the day before at school and had already gotten Bog's permission. He thought that maybe the lads would reconcile their problems with each other if they spent some time alone together without him around."

"When did Bhaltair get a calloused attitude about Bog," Marianne asks?

"I started noticing it when he and Beathan started arguing more than normal and that was about four years ago when the lads were fourteen," Griselda remarks. "Before that, Bhaltair may have been a little distant from his da but he acted as if he was happy when he came to stay with us."

Griselda watches as a contemplative expression takes over the younger woman's face and as she absentmindedly rubs her fingers together. She catches amber eyes glancing at a face-down photo frame before turning to face the older woman with a serious stare.

"What exactly did happen between Bog and Angelina," Marianne questions?

"It's not my place to say," Griselda mumbles. "Ye'll have to talk to Bog about that."

"Then answer me this," Marianne comments, placing her hands on her hips. "Is Angelina justified in her revenge?"

"Revenge? Ye think Angelina has something to do with how both lads are acting," Griselda questions?

"Beathan told me four days ago that his mother told him that his father didn't even want him when she found out that she was pregnant," Marianne starts.

"That's a lie," Griselda interrupts!

"She also told Beathan that Bog only took him because he was the eldest and he wanted the heir," Marianne mentions, holding up her hand to stop the elder's protest. "Yeah, I know it's a lie. It's quite obvious that if there was the slightest truth to that, Bog wouldn't have given Bhaltair the Mcgallrigh name. Something that he could have done since they weren't married."

"As vile as that lass became, I would never have thought that she would stoop that low," Griselda murmurs. "How could she ruin the lads' relationship with each other and with their da just to punish Bog?"

"Is she justified, Griselda," Marianne asks again?

"No," Griselda insist! "They may have had...a little trouble but Bog tried all that he could to repair his mistake. Believe me, Marianne, my lad is a good man."

* * *

"I'm taking my holiday effective immediately," Marianne announces, startling Inspector Robert Andrews!

"What," Robert asks, looking up from his desk?

"I'm taking my holiday effective immediately," Marianne repeats.

"When and for how long," Robert questions?

"I'm off today," Marianne remarks, leaning against the office's doorpost. "So starting now and I need a week off or maybe two weeks."

"Not possible," Robert grumbles. "It's too short of notice."

"Would you rather have my resignation papers," Marianne asks, suppressing the smile at the man's shocked look?

"Are...are ye blackmailing me, Meri," Robert stutters?

"Blackmail? Around a bunch of police officers? Of course not," Marianne denies. "I believe it's called negotiation."

Marianne tries very hard to keep her calm expression as muffled laughter rings out from behind her. It becomes harder at the burly Scot's loud sigh before he grabs his dropped pen and pulls out a paper from a drawer.

"The devil take ye, Meri. Ye're cruel, ye know that," Robert grouses. "This had better be for something important. Did ye tell Brutus about yer plans?"

"Aye, she did," Brutus chimes in, walking up behind Marianne. "She called me last night about what she was going to do."

"And I'm here to make sure ye do it," Jason remarks, leaning on the opposite doorpost.

"Inspector Mcgallrigh! Don't tell me she called ye as well," Robert comments!

"Naw, Aunt Griselda did," Jason admits before ruffling Marianne's hair. "Our wee Meri is going to help out Cousin Bog."

"Meri...," Robert starts worriedly.

"There is nothing in the rules and regulations that say that I can't," Marianne interrupts.

"Naw there isn't," Robert sighs before fixing the young woman with a serious gaze. "Ye're not doing this because of what ye ran away from, are ye, Marianne?"

"I didn't run away," Marianne grumbles, avoiding the gaze of all three men. "I left. There is a difference."

"But even so, lass, we've grown rather fond of ye and we'd hate to see ye get frustrated enough to leave again should ye not find what ye're looking for," Brutus murmurs.

"Why are ye so keen to help Bog and the lads," Jason asks?

"There is something missing," Marianne answers distantly. "Bhaltair and Beathan, you can see it in their eyes. There is something wrong. I can't not help them. I'm drawn to Bog and the boys just like I was drawn to Scotland."

The three men exchange looks at Marianne's posture, her eyes unfocused to the present and seeing something only she can see while her hand hovers over her heart. Jason nods to his coworkers before snapping Marianne out of her daze by patting her shoulder.

"Alright, Meri. If Gallrigh called for ye then that's good enough for me," Jason remarks before leaving.

"Gallrigh," Marianne questions?

"Pay no attention to him, Meri," Robert mutters. "That numpty still believes in fairytales."

"There may be some truth to that legend," Brutus chuckles. "Gallrigh is the father of the Mcgallrighs, Meri. Legend says that he was a fay king that built Caisteal Coille Dorcha then came to the humans for a bride and he returned to the fay fifty years later after his bride died. If ye want the whole legend then ask any Mcgallrigh and they'll be sure to tell ye but the gist of it is that Gallrigh still watches over his offspring."


	9. Chapter 9

"I don't know how ye do it, Aunt Griselda, but ye can get anyone to bend to yer will," Alastair grumbles.

Marianne and Griselda laugh at Alastair's unhappy look as the two women load up Marianne's seldom-used car while Puck and Plum squawk happily from their stroller once their disassembled cage is fully packed.

"Come now, Alastair," Griselda chides. "Don't be like that. Marianne is doing us a big favor and ye don't need to be a grouch just because it means that ye'll have to set yer alarm clock from now on."

Alastair's face turns red in embarrassment at having been caught. It may be petty but he was really going to miss the morning wake-up call. Not to mention, his pretty tenant. He's positive that this isn't going to be temporary because knowing his aunt, she'll use every matchmaking trick in the book to make it permanent. His own shame not to ask the single woman out himself when he had the chance.

'Not like Marianne even showed an interest in dating these past eight years. Oh well,' Alastair sighs inwardly. 'Some win and some lose.'

"Are ye sure that is all ye need, Marianne," Griselda asks, interrupting her nephew's thoughts?

"Yep. If it wasn't for those two, I wouldn't even need half of this," Marianne chuckles, pointing to the confined cockatoos.

After making sure to remind Alastair to inform the other tenants of the cockatoos' absence, said birds are placed into the car and the two women head off toward the countryside. The noon sun beams blearily through the overcast sky onto the landscape as the city turns into suburbs and slowly the distance between houses grow.

"There is nothing like Scotland in the spring and summer," Griselda sighs.

"Are we talking about the fog and rain or the beautiful flowers," Marianne chuckles?

"Both," Griselda laughs. "Even with all the modern developments, this land still has a large touch of magic to it and it's hard not to believe in fairytales."

"Fairytales," Marianne murmurs. "Yeah, this place does make it easier to believe in magic than when I still lived in America. Scotland was only supposed to be my first stop on a grand tour of the world but when I stepped off the plane that first time it felt like I was supposed to stay here."

Griselda takes a glance at the young woman and hums softly at her peaceful expression. 'Maybe I don't have anything to worry about, after all,' she muses.

"I have a slight confession, dear," Griselda remarks as Marianne pulls into the driveway. "Bog doesn't know ye're going to be staying with us."

"What! Griselda," Marianne yells!

"Don't worry," Griselda reassures. "If I told him earlier then he would have tried to talk ye out of it because he wouldn't have wanted to impose on ye. He won't be upset about ye being here, just that he'll think that ye're being bothered by us. Now, let's get everything in and unpacked before the lads get home from Beathan's therapy."

* * *

Marianne lifts her head up at the sound of a car door slamming and quickly finishes putting the last bolt into place. Plum wolf-whistles from her perch on the windowsill before flying over to the newly assembled cage. Puck quits badgering Griselda for food to fly over to dance in front of his mate.

The sound of arguing keeps the women's laughter at bay and with a sigh, Griselda abandons her lunch preparations. Opening the door reveals the dilemma and confirms that she made the right choice as Beathan resists his father's help to get into the wheelchair.

"I don't need yer help," Beathan growls! "I can do it myself!"

"Beathan, ye heard the therapist and the doctor," Bog counters. "Ye can't push yerself too much just yet. Now, let me help ye!"

"No! I...," Beathan starts!

"Beathan," Marianne interrupts, marching out of the house with her hands on her hips! "Are you disobeying the doctor's orders?"

"Marianne!" "Miss Zephyr!"

Griselda chokes down her laughter at the identical faces as both father and son stop their arguing to stare at the woman in shock. She should have thought about getting her camera ready. 'Oh, well. Too late now,' she chuckles silently.

* * *

Beathan chuckles as Puck rubs against his fingers and trills happily. It was a nice surprise to come home to, even if it was a little embarrassing when Marianne got fed up with the arguments and just carried him to the house.

_"I'm not a bairn," Beathan complained, his cheeks bright red!_

_"Then don't act like one," Marianne countered, setting him down on the couch. "The doctor told you that you shouldn't push yourself too much until you're fully recovered. You've just been discharged from a two-week stay in the infirmary and had a session for physical therapy, that means you're going to rest for a little while before doing any more strenuous activity. Do I make myself clear?"_

What else could he do but agree to her demands. At least she didn't take him to his room and it wasn't that long before he discovered the other guests.

Glancing over to his grandmother in her rocking chair, Beathan tries not to laugh at her smug look. Another glance towards the kitchen reveals her reason as it's quite clear that his father is losing his half-hearted argument.

"Ye're sneaky, Gran," Beathan accuses quietly!

"I have to be around this family," Griselda snickers back.

* * *

"Do you have any argument of my being here other than what it means to me," Marianne questions quietly?

Bog sighs and runs his hand through his hair. It's not that he isn't grateful, he is, but it's a lot to ask of someone they've only known for two weeks. Giving a shake of his head, Bog looks into amber eyes.

"No," Bog admits. "I know my mother can be persistent and I don't want ye to think ye need to do this if ye really don't want to."

"I want to," Marianne states. "It'll just be for a little while and hopefully we can get Beathan back to being himself."

"Yeah," Bog sighs, glancing over to the sitting boy. "He was still being stubborn during therapy and the therapist had to help him into the car since he refused to let me. Truthfully, I was beginning to get a little worried that he might stress himself out too much if he keeps resisting my help. It's not good for his heart."

"You still haven't told him," Marianne remarks, knowing the answer.

"He's not even listening to me now," Bog murmurs. "Anytime we talk turns into an argument."

Marianne sighs before turning her attention to Beathan as well. The boy was clearly happy at the moment with his attention on the cockatoos but she knew that it wouldn't be long before his limitations plunge him back into a dark mood. If they can just manage to find out precisely what caused his new attitude and reverse the damage then maybe it won't be an uphill battle to help him adjust to the new changes in his life.

A growling stomach reminds everyone of the lunch sitting in the kitchen which was forgotten in all the commotion.

"Infirmary food is pitiful," Beathan sheepishly chuckles.

"Well, let's get something to eat," Marianne announces, bringing the wheelchair to the couch.

"I can do it," Beathan protests softly. "I rested for a little while and I have to get used to doing things on my own anyway."

"Yes, you do need to learn to do things on your own but if you push yourself too quickly to do things on your own it will only delay your healing and might even permanently disable you," Marianne comments. "Are you muscles still a little tense?"

"No," Beathan answers.

"Alright then. You can do it yourself," Marianne relents, aligning the wheelchair up.

Beathan blinks in shock for a moment before moving both cockatoos off of himself and maneuvering into the wheelchair. He doesn't miss his father's look of panic as he puts too much weight on one side of the wheelchair but Marianne puts her foot down on the opposite wheel to keep it stable. Puck and Plum jump onto his lap after he settles.

"You're going to have to keep practicing on keeping your weight evenly distributed when you move," Marianne instructs. "Your arms are now doing your legs' old job and just like putting too much weight on one leg can cause trouble so can putting too much weight on one arm. It'll be a lot easier when you can use your legs to help but for now, it's all on your arms."

"It's easier at the therapy sessions," Beathan mumbles.

"That's because they have everything on an even and open level there," Marianne explains. "The challenging part comes in day-to-day living where everything is different and you have to adjust quickly."

Beathan blinks again as Marianne walks away and pulls a protesting Bog and Griselda into the kitchen with her. Biting his lip, Beathan tries to maneuver the wheelchair around the living room but growls in frustration when the wheel catches onto a side table. He looks around to figure out how to fix it and lets out a groan when he can't get the wheelchair to back up.

"There is no shame in knowing your limitations and asking for help," Marianne calls out.

"Okay...I need help," Beathan admits.

Marianne smiles gently at the boy as she reemerges from the kitchen. With firm hands, she dislodges the wheelchair and wheels him to the table. She flashes a smug look to the previously-worried father while Beathan's attention is on the food and tries to keep her laughter in when Bog raises his eyebrow before shaking his head.

'Maybe she is just what my lads need after all,' Griselda muses. 'It's definitely going to be interesting around here.'


	10. Chapter 10

Three pairs of eyes slam open at the sound of two roosters crowing...inside the house. They widen even more when the crowing stops and the tune of 'Rule, Britannia!' is whistled out.

'What an unpatriotic bird,' Bog grumbles silently, pushing himself to sit up.

"Wrong channel," Plum squawks!

Beathan's laughter rings out as the cockatoos change the whistle to the tune of 'Scotland the Brave'.

"What are you two doing in here," Marianne questions from the doorway?

Puck and Plum stop their antics to stare up at her in innocence from their position on Beathan's bedpost.

* * *

"Stop grumbling. Your mother is right," Marianne comments.

Bog looks up from his task of putting on his boots to find Marianne leaning against his doorpost. Giving a sigh, he finishes and grabs his tool belt off his dresser.

"I need to stay here with Beathan," Bog remarks.

"You need to go back to work. You haven't gone to work since the accident," Marianne starts, raising her hand to cut off his protest. "Doing paperwork when you should be sleeping doesn't count."

"Beathan needs me," Bog insists. "I can't just abandon him."

"You're not abandoning him. Griselda and I can help him out just fine," she counters. "As I told you when we had lunch yesterday, you have to let Beathan discover his own weaknesses. You can't keep rescuing him before he even realizes there is a problem. He's grown up now and you need to let him grow up."

"But what if...," he starts before soft fingers cut off his speech?

"You are not doing either of you any good," Marianne interjects. "Beathan is confused enough and he needs you to act the same as you've done before. I've heard enough to know that you've never sheltered him and you treated him just like any other child so that he wouldn't grow up feeling like he was different than everyone else. Don't do so now. Listen to your mother. Go to work and leave the rest to us."

"I almost lost him this time and I can still lose him," Bog murmurs, tears escaping liquid blue eyes. "What if something happens when I'm not around?"

Marianne wipes off the tears and smiles reassuringly at the distressed man. As much as she wants to help this family, she knows that she can't fully understand how he, a worried father, feels but that doesn't stop her from wanting to heal his pain. There aren't any words that she could say to ease his fears, so instead, she leans against his broad chest in an effort to give him strength.

"Thanks," Bog sighs into the hug.

* * *

"This sucks baws," Beathan grumbles.

"Language, Beathan," Griselda reprimands!

"Sorry, Gran. I'm just bored," Beathan complains. "Staying in the infirmary was bad enough but to come home and still not be able to do anything is terrible. Are ye sure I can't help out just a little?"

"You are helping out by keeping those two out of trouble," Marianne counters, pointing a dirt-covered finger toward Puck edging toward the baby plants.

Beathan quickly tugs the leash and Puck grumbles as he walks back to the wheelchair. He turns his attention back to Marianne as she helps his grandmother weed her garden beds. 'But it's my job,' he laments silently. Shifting in his seat brings a bit of pain and he winces as two sets of eyes instantly turn toward him.

"I'll go get your medication," Marianne comments.

Within moments, Marianne returns from the house with a glass of water and a cup of medication. Beathan quickly takes his medication and shifts again with a sigh before looking back at the attentive woman. It's a lot easier not focusing on everything when his father was around to be angry at but somehow both women managed to chase him off to work.

"I want to do something," Beathan remarks. "I feel useless."

"You're injured, not useless," Marianne points out. "In another week or two, your injuries will have healed enough for you to do your regular activity and you won't need as much medication but for now you need to rest."

"Why can't I at least do my schoolwork," Beathan questions? "I don't want to have to repeat the school year all over again."

"Don't worry about that, dear," Griselda chimes in. "The board of education decided that since this is yer last year and that there were only several weeks of school left at the time of yer accident that they are going to let you finish those weeks as soon as the doctor gives the okay."

"You may think that your mind is working properly but I can assure you that if you try any of your schoolwork you will get frustrated because of it being difficult," Marianne remarks, seeing the boy's argument ready to surface. "Your mind has been through a lot as well and it needs to rest too. It's better to wait."

* * *

"Ye're home early," Griselda comments.

Bog winces at the accusatory tone and the dry-look. His mother's position in her rocking chair gives her a full view of him trying to sneak back into the house. But it was his house! He should be allowed in it whenever he wanted!

"Where's Beathan," Bog asks?

"Taking a nap," Marianne calls out from the kitchen.

Bog smiles at the domestic scene after he peeks into the kitchen. Plum is perched onto a chair as Marianne briskly makes preparations for dinner and every-so-often hands a cut vegetable to the waiting bird. He can't hold back his laughter, though, as he looks around for the other feathered guest and finds Puck dancing in front of the television that Marianne brought with her.

"Beathan was okay today," Bog questions?

"He is fine, dear," Griselda reassures with a gentle smile. "Marianne helped me weed the garden while Beathan enjoyed the fresh air. He may have grumbled a little about not doing anything but he did keep Puck from devouring my young plants. Then he watched tv for a little while before nodding off to sleep. He's his father's lad and can't stand to be non-active."

Griselda's glare has more fondness to it than heat but it doesn't make it any less intimating. Bog tries very hard not to laugh out loud and shrugs in innocence before heading to his room to change his clothes. If there was one thing every Mcgallrigh had a problem with then it is definitely sitting still and it's the bane of those that married or birthed them.

"Ye're home early," Beathan mumbles sleepily.

Bog gives a small grin at the dazed blue eyes peering up at him through the doorway. Even with all the heartache of the past two weeks, there were times that he was reminded that his son was still his son no matter what his present attitude was and it is a refreshing balm to his heart.

"The gathering is in two weeks so there aren't any big jobs to do," Bog explains.

"Ah right, I forgot," Beathan mutters. "I'll be healed just in time to be gawked at for being a freak."

"Beathan Jasper Mcgallrigh! Ye're not a freak and I'll not be hearing ye say that again. Do I make myself clear," Bog growls?

"I've got no legs," Beathan growls back! "What good am I now? I'm confined to a chair and I can't build anything anymore! What am I supposed to do?"

"There's plenty for ye to do," Bog argues! "So ye can't walk without prosthetics, so what! Ye're still alive and ye still got yer brain!"

"You both need to use your brains," Marianne growls, causing Bog to jump! "Bog, control your temper! Beathan, obey the doctor's orders! She ordered that you stay calm and relaxed, which you're not doing by baiting your father."

"I'm fine," Beathan mumbles, avoiding glaring amber eyes.

"No, you are not," Marianne remarks. "You're stressing out your heart and you will land yourself back in the infirmary, if not the ICU ward again."

"My heart," Beathan repeats?

"Did you listen to the doctor at all," Marianne question?

"Yes," Beathan replies hesitantly, flinching as Marianne's palm connects with her forehead.

"Did you at least listen to the part where she explained why they had to amputate your legs," Marianne mutters?

"My legs were crushed when the truck rolled," Beathan answers.

"Griselda, is selective hearing also a Mcgallrigh trait," Marianne asks dryly?

"Unfortunately," Griselda huffs.

Both women turn their glares to the elder male and Bog raises his hands defensively.

"Like ye both said, he's grown up and can answer for himself," Bog comments uneasily, ignoring Beathan calling him a coward.

Marianne shakes her head at the man, barely holding back her laughter, before heading over to sit next to Beathan on his bed. The lanky teenager tries to smile charmingly but it turns into a grimace before he sighs at her serious expression and forces himself to sit up.

'I guess all that nurse training still comes in handy,' Marianne silently admits.


	11. Chapter 11

"Since you didn't listen to the doctor then I'll explain it myself and you better pay attention," Marianne orders, getting a quick nod. "You're right, your legs were crushed when the truck rolled but that isn't the reason they had to be amputated. In fact, if that was all there was to it then your legs may have been saved. Do you remember when you gave me and Officer McGee your statement about the accident? About you not remembering everything about the crash?"

"Yeah," Beathan murmurs. "The last thing I remember is Bhaltair yelling just as he lost control of the truck."

"Beathan, you had a heart attack," Marianne remarks.

"What! How," Beathan questions, looking to the adults? "I'm only eighteen!"

"The type of heart attack you had is called a coronary artery spasm and in your case, it was caused by the stress you were under," Marianne explains. "You were unconscious when they rescued you from the crash and they didn't realize that you had the heart attack until they got you to the infirmary where you had another one. It was discovered that the artery had partially collapsed and they were forced to delay treatment on your legs to do surgery on your heart. Do you understand?"

"I don't have any chest wounds, though. Well, except a small one but that's from the crash, right," Beathan asks?

"They didn't have to perform open heart surgery," Marianne mentions, pointing to where the small healed incision is. "With the added risk of the blood loss you already sustained, they performed a nonsurgical procedure using a catheter, a thin and flexible tube, inserted into your blood vessel right there to re-inflate the artery and insert a stent to keep it from collapsing again."

"Okay. So I had a heart attack before and after the accident," Beathan comments. "But why couldn't my legs be saved?"

"Whenever there is heart trouble, the body picks what to protect and the legs are the last on that list," Marianne comments. "Your lower legs were already damaged from the crash and with the added strain of your heart not sending it much needed oxygen-rich blood, by the time they got your heart stable enough to do surgery on your legs it would have been dangerous if they didn't remove the damaged tissues."

Beathan rubs his hand against his chest and bites his lip as he digests this information. It was one thing to think about his legs being destroyed because of the accident but to find out that his heart was the real cause...well, he wasn't sure what to think.

"But why did I have the heart attack," Beathan mumbles? "Da always made sure that I didn't do anything fast-paced or anything like it. Is it because I'm not used to dealing with those type of situations?"

"There is something that your father has neglected to tell you," Marianne starts.

"Wait," Bog interrupts before silencing at her sharp look!

"At this rate, you'll never get the courage to tell him and he does have the right to know," Marianne admonishes.

"Know what," Beathan questions?

"Yer da loves ye and he was afraid that if ye knew before ye were able to understand then ye might have grown up thinking that ye were different than the other children," Griselda remarks, sitting down on the other side of Beathan. "He didn't want the other children to ostracise ye. Don't be angry at him for keeping it from ye and if ye think that ye need to be, then be angry at me too since I could have told ye myself."

"Told me what," Beathan asks again?

"You were born with a heart condition called pediatric hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, also known as a weak heart," Marianne explains. "Before you get angry that they told me before telling you, I found out because I took a peek at your chart when I was getting your brother's statement."

"I have heart problems," Beathan mumbles before directing his gaze toward Bog. "Why didn't ye tell me?"

"I didn't know how," Bog admits softly, keeping his eyes down. "A poor excuse, I know, but it's the truth. I knew that I needed to tell ye and I did want to tell ye but I didn't know how to tell ye. Like yer gran said, at first it was so that ye grew up normal but when ye got old enough to understand...everything just moved so fast. I blinked and then Bhaltair and ye were grown."

"Does Maw know," Beathan questions?

"She's known since ye were born but I don't think she believes it," Bog remarks. "Yer cardiomyopathy is very mild and it's stayed that way thanks to all the treatments."

Beathan looks down to his hands as they clutch the blankets in a fierce grip. His mind flashes back to all the doctor visits and the tests that he never questioned, the medicine he took regularly without complaint, and the rules the other children teased him about. It's a little obvious that something was wrong with him now that he knew about it but it is a lot to process.

"Does Bhaltair know," Beathan asks quietly?

"I don't know if yer maw told Bhaltair or not," Bog comments, kneeling in front of his son's bed to stare into his eyes. "I swear that I didn't keep it from ye as a secret, lad. It's just something I haven't been able to tell ye yet."

"Are ye keeping any secrets from me? I'm eighteen and I'm old enough to understand," Beathan insists, his eyes filling with tears and despair.

"No secrets but there is one thing more that I need to tell ye," Bog admits. "But it's something yer brother needs to know as well and I don't know if I can say it twice. Be a little more patient with me, Beathan."

* * *

Marianne hums a tune as she looks out into the garden. It's a tranquil evening despite the rather turbulent afternoon and the twilight covered greenery seems to generate peace. Making no outward notice of the new presence joining her on the stone deck, she continues her song with only a pause as she sips the cooling hot chocolate.

"Do ye think he'll forgive me," Bog questions softly?

"I don't think he's even mad at you," Marianne murmurs. "Beathan had a lot to take in and it's understandable that he's even more confused than he was before."

"I keep wondering if I did the right thing when he was a child," Bog mutters, sitting in the chair next to her. "How would things be different if I just told him that he was sick?"

"No point worrying about that. What's done is done and you can't change it," Marianne remarks. "You did what you thought was best for Beathan's sake and even though I am guilty of lecturing you, it made sense once you explained your reasons. You meant to tell him, even if you never got around to doing that. I guess when a person is doing something in an effort to protect or care for another then it's alright. At least you weren't doing all of that for your own sake."

"And if I was," Bog murmurs? "Maybe I was doing it for my own sake. Using Beathan to atone for my guilt by trying to keep him healthy and happy."

Marianne glances at the man beside her out of the corner of her eye. It's clear to her that he is having more trouble adjusting to this change of life than even Beathan is but it's also clear that the pain he is suffering from is older than two weeks. Her heart still insists that he is a good man and even without Griselda's reassurance about his character, Marianne knows nothing will change that.

"I'd ask if you actually believe that bull you just said but that would be pointless," she remarks, sipping her chocolate again. "Everybody has a skeleton in their closet and everyone is worried how certain people would react if they knew about them. Don't you think that you're insulting both your sons by thinking they'll reject you once they find out about your skeleton? I can understand if you thought they were too young to understand about what happened between you and their mother but they're both grown now and they deserve the chance to decide for themselves what to believe in."

"How did ye...," he trails off, staring at her in shock?

"Figure out that your skeleton is about Angelina," Marianne finishes? "It's the only subject everyone avoids."

"That does make it rather obvious," Bog half-sighs half-laughs. "They do deserve to know and I have planned to tell them when they no longer needed mine or their mother's care after they graduated. I guess life just doesn't turn out the way ye have planned."

"Life never follows the plan," Marianne murmurs distantly. "My life was planned the day I was born and yet, here I am in Scotland, a traffic officer for Police Scotland and the adopted mother of two feathered children, sitting beside a father of two teenage sons in Mr McGregor's garden."

Bog's hearty laughter fills the air and Marianne's laughter soon joins as the moonlight peeks through the darkened night sky. They settle back down into a comfortable companionship to watch the night blooming flowers open their petals, unknowing to the two sets of eyes peering out of the window.

"I don't think I've ever seen Da laugh this much," Beathan comments.

"He used to laugh a lot when he was younger and for so long, only Bhaltair and ye have been able to bring that laughter back," Griselda remarks.

"I don't know what to believe, Gran," Beathan admits. "All my life I knew what to believe but now everything is wrong. Even if Da didn't lie to me, he has kept things from me. How do I know what to believe?"

"I know that ye're angry with him for things that he hasn't told ye but he only did what he thought was best to do," Griselda consoles. "If ye're going to fault him then fault him for doing the best that he could."

Griselda ruffles his black hair before closing the curtain beside the bed and forcing him to lay back down. The troubled blue eyes staring up at her remind her of another eighteen-year-old so long ago whose distress tugged at her heart then. Life has been hard on her family but even through all the hardships, there has always been a ray of hope shining.

"Listen to yer heart, Beathan," Griselda murmurs. "It knows what to believe in, even if ye don't."


	12. Chapter 12

Bolting out of bed, Marianne runs out of her temporary room and speeds down the hallway. She slams into Bog outside of Beathan's room as he runs from the opposite direction. For a moment, the pair stare at each other in stunned silence before the reason for their disturbed sleep causes Marianne to push away from Bog and enter Beathan's room with him close behind. Their hearts break at the gut-wrenching sobs coming from the distressed teen curling up on his bed.

"It hurts," Beathan sobs!

"Where does it hurt," Marianne questions, rubbing his back to soothe him?

"My legs," Beathan answers!

Bog quickly moves to help Marianne get Beathan to uncurl and then moves the blankets away from his legs. He inspects the incisions under the lamplight but the healed skin shows no infection.

"Phantom pain," Marianne explains at his questioning look. "It's not that uncommon for amputees to feel pain from their missing limbs."

"But it's real," Beathan protests through his tears!

"Yes, it's real pain," Marianne confirms. "You may have no lower legs but your body will sometimes forget because all the nerves are still connected. You've had enough pain medication that I'm not surprised you haven't felt this before."

"What do we do," Bog asks worriedly?

Hot tears soak Marianne's neck and nightshirt as Beathan clings to her while Bog follows her instructions to gently rub Beathan's legs and she hums out a soothing tune to the distressed teen while rubbing his back. Slowly, the tension soon melts from the figure in her embrace and the tears stop flowing. With one last sniffle, Beathan moves his face from being pressed against her neck but only to lay his head against her shoulder.

"Sorry. I got yer shirt all wet," Beathan mumbles. "I guess I'm still a bairn after all."

"No, you're not," Marianne denies, brushing his bangs out of his face. "I had several patients with amputations, grown men at that, who said that phantom pain is more painful than when they had to have the limb amputated. Not everybody gets it and there is not really anything you can do to prepare for it."

"So, I'll have this happen a lot," Beathan questions?

"Hard to say," she admits. "The only thing you can do is soothe the nerves in your legs by giving them a rubbing when they hurt and talk to your doctor about pain medication that will help treat phantom pain. The most important thing you can do, though, is not ignoring it when the pain starts like you did tonight."

Beathan flushes at the admonition he can hear in her voice. It was a lost cause to have had hoped that she didn't realize how long he was in pain before it became too much. He winces at his father's look of disapproval as he catches the hint in Marianne's warning.

"How long were ye in pain," Bog growls, not stopping his task?

"Well...," Beathan trails off.

"Beathan," Bog sighs roughly! "Ye said that ye can take care of yerself, so that means ye need to take care of yerself."

"At first I didn't think it was real because how could my feet hurt when I don't have feet anymore," Beathan admits. "Then I figured it would go away."

Bog sighs again and leans up to hug his son, encompassing Marianne as well. He chuckles as Beathan complains about being squashed between the two adults but the complaint is half-hearted and the boy snuggles deeper into Marianne's embrace.

"How do you feel now," Marianne asks?

"Better but I'm not really sleepy now," Beathan murmurs.

"How about a story? Bhaltair and ye used to love them when ye had trouble sleeping," Bog comments.

"I'm not a bairn anymore," Beathan remarks, a red dusting over his cheeks.

"Hush," Marianne commands gently. "I want to hear it."

After maneuvering to lay sideways on the bed, Bog props himself up on his elbow to look down at the other two as Beathan looks up at him still pressed against Marianne's collarbone. Beathan's refusal to leave Marianne's hold is a clear indication of the boy's longing for a caring mother even though he is grown. 'This is what my lads should have had,' he growls silently. Shaking the bitter anger away, Bog flashes a grateful smile to Marianne for her understanding.

"Now, what story shall I tell," Bog questions?

"How about who Gallrigh is," Marianne asks? "Brutus told me that if I wanted the whole legend then I should ask any Mcgallrigh."

"Yeah, Da, tell the story about Gallrigh," Beathan exclaims excitedly!

"The Mcgallrigh legend? Alright, let's see," Bog hums. "Back when the land was young to human inhabitant, Coille Dorcha grew large, dark, and proud. The imposing woods struck fear into the hearts of all men and none had the courage to go near it. One Beltane night as the revelries came to a fever-pitch in a nearby village, a light was seen coming from the midst of Coille Dorcha. A few lads, just drunk enough to forget their fear, wandered into the woods and traversed through the bogs until they came near to the source of the light. In astonishment, they saw a tall man dancing around a bonfire and in horror, they watched as this man started to work through the night. Timber fell, brush cleared, and before dawn's light broke the horizon, the foundation of a large castle was drawn into the ground. The lads returned to the village babbling their tale but no one believed them and no one dared to enter the forest.

"The year passed and the sound of building echoed through the forest to the unease of the villagers. Beltane came again but not even the great amount of spirits being guzzled down could cause anyone to investigate the light within the forest that night. The day passed and they thought no more of it until a stranger entered their village. He was taller than any man around and many a lass, both married and free, swooned at his appearance. He gave no name to them but said that he sought a bride if any lass would be willing. One lass was but her male kin was not for they did not trust this stranger. He spoke with power and soon they agreed to give him the lass but only for a year and a day.

"No more, said they, for we know not how ye treat our lass.

"A year and a day, argued them, is enough to satisfy any man.

"The truth, ye see, is that they feared him and did not wish to stir his wrath but nor did they wish for him to realize their fear. So they threatened him that should the lass not be returned that they would burn the forest he had claimed for his own. He accepted their terms and returned to Coille Dorcha that day with the lass in his care. None still dared to enter those woods, so none saw them again until a year and a day had passed.

"He returned with the lass by his side, as was agreed, but upon her chest, she nursed a lad she bore. He again asked for a bride but the men grew fearful and jealous more as the returned lass gave him enthusiastic praise for his care and his castle. He gave no name still, for he said that he'd give them no power, so they named him Gallrigh, the stranger king.

"You are not one of us, said they, a bride we cannot give.

"A year and a day, argued them, is enough to satisfy any man.

"He frustration grew at their denial for a bride but he complied to their terms, for now it was pride, and another lass was given into his care for a year and a day. This lass had born twin lads and she gave such praise as had the first but again their treatment was the same when he returned next May. He retrieved his firstborn from the care of its mother and because of the villagers' schemes, he returned to Coille Dorcha with another lass for a year and a day.

"Years passed and each May was the same. He returned with a lass and the offspring she bore, retrieved last year's born and took one lass more. His lads grew tall and strong like their da, his lasses bloomed into beauteous form, but in Gallrigh's revenge, he took none from the village for his offsprings to marry. He sent from afar brides for his lads and husbands for his lasses. But Gallrigh was determined to take a bride for himself from that village alone and each year he returned.

"My pride, said he, would be avenged and they would give what they refused.

"One lass had watched from afar, from childhood she watched Gallrigh and his lads enter the village and she declared in her youth that she would be the queen of Coille Dorcha. Thirty years passed with each day of May and on the first of June, the lass, now grown, beauteous and fair with suitors abounding, declared to Gallrigh that she will be his bride. To the dismay of each village lad, her sire agreed to give her hand to the stranger king, though all knew the lass would not yield should he deny her.

"Forty-two lads and ten lasses, said her sire, is proof to me that he is noble, caring, and proud.

"A bride for me, exclaimed Gallrigh, is all I asked from thee but now I see I should have asked a queen!

"They were wed and to him, she gave three lads and three lasses more. Gallrigh loved his queen with great desire and twenty years passed before her funeral pyre. Heart-sick for his bride on Beltane night, the stranger king disappeared by morning light."

Bog chuckles lowly at the soft snores coming from his son's form and grins at Marianne before helping her from his sleep-slackened grasp. With gentle hands, the two adults tuck the teenager into bed properly, unaware of their audience.

Griselda smiles warmly from her place at the doorway at the loving scene and the content smile lighting her grandson's face. Turning around to head back to bed, she can't keep from smiling at the memory of Marianne fulfilling a role as if it was hers. 'Ye might be right, after all, Jason,' she muses. 'Marianne is right where she belongs.'


	13. Chapter 13

"Thank ye," Bog remarks quietly.

"For what," Marianne questions, grabbing a dish to dry?

"For everything but especially for last night," Bog comments. "I tried the best I could with Beathan but nothing can replace a woman's care, a mother's care. Thank ye for mothering him."

Marianne blushes lightly at the reminder of last night. It had felt so right to hug the boy to her that she had forgotten that he wasn't a child nor was he her son. She just wanted to soothe his pain. Then under the spell of Bog's storytelling, even as Beathan fall asleep against her, Marianne could only feel at peace. Tucking the teenager into bed seemed so normal and she couldn't stop herself from brushing back his sleep-tousled hair to lay a kiss on his forehead. It wasn't until after she laid her head back onto her pillow did she realize her blunder and she couldn't blame it on being tired since her body and mind was trained to be alert immediately. 'At least I didn't indulge the temptation of giving Bog a kiss of his own,' Marianne admits. 

"No problem at all," she mutters.

Bog chuckles lightly at her embarrassment and hands her another dish. He woke this morning to the kooky birds under the impression that last night was just a pleasant dream but over breakfast Beathan removed that thought when he asked Marianne what she thought about the Mcgallrigh legend. It's a blessing to see his son act normal again without the anger that he's been carrying and he owes it all to the daring brunette.

"Ye going to work today, Da," Beathan asks, startling the two?

"I only got paperwork to do today," Bog replies over his shoulder. "It's not just building things. Ye'd be surprised over how much paperwork a construction company goes through."

"No kidding," Marianne chuckles. "My dad complained that he could build a skyscraper with the amount of paperwork he filled out in one year."

"Yer da is in construction, too," Beathan questions?

"When he was younger," Marianne answers. "But he found out through his own experiences that there was more need for a construction and builder's supply company and changed the company more for that, though they still do jobs when they're asked but not full-time."

"I understand that," Bog admits. "It's hard to get the supplies we need sometimes. Branching into a supply company does sound like a good idea, though."

"What's yer mother do, dear," Griselda asks?

"Dad's secretary," Marianne chuckles. "She applied for the job right after she finished school and months later, they got married. Dad said he had to snatch her up before the other guys realized that there was an available woman underneath all that paperwork."

Bog laughs with the others at the humorous statement but he doesn't miss Marianne's melancholy underneath it all. Whatever happened that caused her to leave her family was something that is still painful. It's also clear by the misty amber eyes that she's trying to hide that she misses them dearly. He sighs before shaking his head slightly when Beathan opens his mouth, knowing that it was going to be about her family. Beathan follows Bog's pointed look toward Marianne's back and nods his understanding.

"I can't wait until the Justice lets me be around Bhaltair again," Beathan comments instead. "The first thing that I'm going to do is wallop that bampot."

"That's the reason why the Justice doesn't want you around your brother," Marianne remarks, grinning at him over her shoulder.

"What? He didn't listen to me about not driving that night and he's been ignoring me since then. He deserves a good walloping," Beathan defends.

"True, he should have listened to you or at the very least, been less irresponsible that night but that is something the courts will punish him on," Marianne states. "Also, he might not be ignoring you on purpose. You have been in the infirmary for two weeks recovering from your own injuries and he's probably trying to catch up on schoolwork himself since he was out of school for several days thanks to his concussion. I'm sure he'll contact you soon."

"Maybe," Beathan mumbles.

The three adults exchange looks at his despondent answer. This was something more than Bhaltair not contacting him. Griselda nudges the boy with a pointed-grandmotherly-look and the boy relents to her unspoken prodding with a sigh.

"I called him yesterday," Beathan admits. "Maw picked up and told me to leave him alone, that I caused enough trouble."

"What," Bog yells!

Marianne places her hand on his arm to calm him despite the anger she can feel coursing through her own veins. At this point, there was nothing Angelina could say about Bog that would justify that woman's actions. Watching Griselda console the teenager stirs a determination within her spirit. There is still a little time left.

* * *

"What are you doing here," Bhaltair questions?

"To see Miss Angelina Tussle," Marianne states. "Is your mother home?"

"No, Mum's working," Bhaltair grumbles.

"Then I'm here to see you instead, Mr Bhaltair Mcgallrigh," Marianne remarks.

"Why would I want to talk to you? You're shagging Bogart," the red-haired teen sneers.

Marianne can feel her spine wanting to snap under the rigid tension but she refuses to lash out. 'Breathe in and breathe out. Stupidity is not a justifiable homicide,' she silently repeats. Snapping her eyes open after they unintentionally close, she gets some thrill as the boy takes an involuntary step back at her glare.

"I don't know where you got that idea from but I'm not shagging your father," Marianne growls. "As for why you should want to talk to me, maybe because it's hard to repair broken bonds once the years have passed and you've realized that maybe you should have done things differently. Now, park the attitude!"

Bhaltair blinks in astonishment at her for a few minutes before moving to the side and gesturing inside. His thoughts stray back to the past week of school with most of the other students avoiding him, even some of his and Beathan's mutual friends. This could be a bad idea but he is tired of not knowing what is going on and she seemed to be the only one willing to talk to him.

"If you're not shagging Bogart then how come you're staying at his house," Bhaltair asks after taking the seat across from her?

"Your grandmother asked me to help your dad and brother out for a week or two until Beathan becomes better adjusted to everything," she answers.

"Don't tell me they managed to con you into thinking Beathan is sick. I thought you were smarter than that when we met back in the ICU ward," he mutters.

"What makes you think that your brother isn't sick," Marianne questions?

"Oh come on! Bogart overreacts to everything about him. He coddles Beathan like a baby," Bhaltair remarks.

"I take it then that your mother didn't tell you," Marianne comments.

"Tell me what? Mum said there is nothing wrong with him and if there was then she would know," he scoffs.

"You know full well that she refused to listen to the doctors when they tried to tell her about Beathan's condition while you were giving your statement," she mentions. "Your brother nearly died two weeks ago."

"Beathan nearly died," Bhaltair repeats in shock. "But he was fine! Mum said so and she doesn't lie!"

"I'm not calling her a liar. I'm just stating the facts and the fact of the matter is that your brother had two surgeries in an effort to save his life. Three surgeries if you want to get technical," Marianne corrects. "He's been in the infirmary for two weeks, spending three of those days in the ICU ward, and was discharged three days ago. Your father spent every day, nearly all day, in the infirmary with him."

"Mum said that Beathan and Bogart didn't want anything to do with me," Bhaltair mumbles.

Marianne softens her eyes at the confused teenager. That last statement wasn't meant for her to hear but hear it she did and she couldn't deny the obvious truth that this boy was far more hurt than he let on. Good thing that Angelina wasn't home, after all, or she might be tempted to damage that woman.

"Beathan tried calling you yesterday but he was told that he had caused enough trouble and to leave you alone," she comments, getting a wide-eyed look.

"Beathan didn't cause any trouble," he protests! "I did."

"Not according to your statement, remember," Marianne points out? "You said that Beathan caused the accident to happen by goading you."

Bhaltair squirms uneasily in his seat at the piercing amber eyes boring into him. It was far different from his mother's condescending green eyes or his father's soulful blues. In some ways, these eyes seemed to condemn him but at the same time soothe him. He sighs roughly, ruffles his shaggy red hair, and moves his own blue-eyed gaze to the floor.

"It's my fault," he admits quietly. "Mum told me that I shouldn't say anything but if Beathan is hurt because of me than it wouldn't be right to keep silent. How is Beathan doing?"

"Do you really want to know his condition," she questions, getting a nod? "Beathan had a heart attack just as you lost control of the truck caused by the intense stress and as a result, his coronary artery partially collapsed which caused another heart attack when he was brought to the infirmary. They were forced to delay treatment for the accident-related injuries to perform surgery on his heart to re-inflate the artery and insert a stent to keep it from happening again."

Marianne forces herself to continue despite the dawning horror decorating the boys' face. Just like Beathan, he was grown up enough to know the full truth.

"Your brother's legs were crushed under the truck's dashboard and by the time his heart was stable enough for them to treat the accident-related injuries, they were forced to amputate both of Beathan's legs below the knee," she explains.

"I did that to my brother," Bhaltair states in horror!

"Yes and no," Marianne comments. "You said that your father coddled Beathan but the truth is that if it wasn't for all your father's coddling then your brother would probably be dead by now. Beathan was born with a heart condition that would have been life-threatening had he not received proper treatment all these years."

"A heart condition," he repeats before getting angry. "Why wasn't I told?"

"Don't feel slighted," Marianne chuckles. "Beathan just found out about it himself yesterday. Your father neglected to tell him about it as well. He wanted him to grow up as a normal child, not with either of you thinking that he was different."

Bhaltair bites his lip and twists his hands together. He didn't really want to believe that everything she said was true but he couldn't find any lie in it. Everything was so messed up and nothing really made sense anymore. 'Maybe if I take responsibility for things I've done then maybe life might get easier,' he muses. 'Everybody else seems to think so.'

"Do you think I can change my statement about the accident," Bhaltair questions?

"You didn't really give much of a statement in the first place," Marianne remarks. "If you're willing to tell the whole truth then I think Inspector Andrews will gladly hear what you have to say."


	14. Chapter 14

"Ye swear that ye made this statement of yer own free will with no influence by Constable Zephyr," Robert asks?

"I swear," Bhaltair states. "Constable Zephyr just offered to drive me here after I asked if I could change my statement."

"Have ye discussed these events with anyone else," Robert questions?

"Just my mum and Mr Jock Tavers the solicitor. They told me to not say anything but I've not been feeling right about it," Bhaltair admits. "After Constable Zephyr told me about what really happened to Beathan, I couldn't keep quiet about it anymore. It's not Beathan's fault as I said before but my own and I'm not going to let Mr Tavers get me out of the court's punishment like him and Mum plan."

Robert scratches through his short red beard before turning his attention off of the repentant teenager sitting in front of him to the brunette waiting outside his closed office door. He didn't know how she did it but he wasn't going to complain about this turn of events.

"Ye realize that once I file this statement, ye'll not be allowed to change it again," Robert comments.

"I understand but it's the truth," Bhaltair admits.

"Alright then. I'll have this filed with the Justice the first thing in the morning and ye'll be notified if there are any changes," Robert explains. "Do ye have any questions?"

"Just one. Do you think I can go visit my brother," Bhaltair asks? "I know that we have that separation requirement but I won't cause any more trouble."

"I was the one who suggested the separation to the Justice under the impression that ye and Beathan didn't get along," Robert mentions. "If ye swear that there will be no trouble between the two of ye then I will permit it and also have the Justice remove it in the morning."

"In the morning," Bhaltair repeats disappointed.

"As Constable Zephyr is accompanying ye then ye can visit him today under her supervision and she can report back to me that the two of ye are behaving," Robert reassures, motioning for Marianne to come in. "Meri, Bhaltair wants to visit his brother today. I want ye to act as a chaperone and monitor them. If they behave then I'll have the Justice remove the separation requirement."

* * *

Bhaltair looks out of the corner of his eye to Marianne as she drives him back to his house. She's an enigma to him. She says that she isn't really dating his father yet because he said that it wouldn't be right until both boys are out of school but she's trying to help anyway. It didn't make sense to him. 'Who'd want to take care of kids when they didn't have to,' he questions silently?

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll think I sprouted fairy wings," Marianne pipes up.

He blushes at being caught staring and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. There's also the problem of her being too observant.

"Why are you helping our family," Bhaltair asks?

"Why shouldn't I," she counters?

"It doesn't make sense," he points out. "You didn't know about us until the accident and even then you didn't have to get involved with us."

"Maybe I just followed my heart," Marianne comments. "It told me that I needed to help you and your brother and your father."

"Why? You still don't know anything about us," Bhaltair mutters.

"I might not know everything about all of you but I know enough that it makes me agree that my heart is right," she remarks.

"Would you still be willing to help Bogart if you knew the truth about him," he questions?

"Whose truth about him," Marianne asks? "At this point in my life, I've learned to never trust the opinions of only one side of the matter."

"Mum told me," Bhaltair states. "She told me four years ago because she said I deserved to know the truth. They weren't dating, they were barely even friends but he raped her and when he found out that she was pregnant he told her to get an abortion. He wouldn't even help her when Mum's dad kicked her out of the house when she couldn't terminate the pregnancy because they didn't have the money."

"Your mother told you that when you were fourteen," Marianne growls?

"I was old enough to understand," Bhaltair defends. "Course, Beathan didn't understand. He wouldn't listen to me when I tried to tell him the truth about Bogart. Not really surprising since Bogart decided after his dad died that he wanted Beathan, what with him being the older twin. Mum's has to work all the time to support me because Bogart refuses to help and the courts can't do anything to force him because he has Beathan."

Marianne gnaws at her lip as she pulls next to the small duplex. As much as she wants to defend Bog, she didn't really have the knowledge to do so. For all she knew, that wretched woman could be telling the truth. But there is one thing that she knew is a lie and that might be enough to get the boy to seek the whole truth.

"How sure are you about your mother telling you the truth and not telling a spiteful lie," she questions?

"Mum wouldn't lie about this," he growls!

"I may not know the whole truth myself but I do know one thing about that so-called truth you just said that is a lie," Marianne remarks. "Last time I checked, to be older means being born first and Beathan was born seventeen minutes after you."

"What," Bhaltair yells!

"I'm a really curious person, to the point of being nosey," she chuckles, scratching the tip of her nose. "When I was checking on your brother's condition I stumbled upon your birth records and it clearly states that you were born before your brother."

'Beathan's younger than me,' Bhaltair repeats silently. 'What else has Mum lied about?'

"You said that you're old enough to understand. Beathan said the same thing," Marianne comments. "Don't you think that it's time to actually ask your father instead of just assuming that he is wrong about everything? Maybe he's been too afraid to bring up the subject because he wasn't sure you were ready to hear the answers. Like I told Beathan several days ago, it doesn't matter whether he really wanted you before you were born because it's clear that he wants you now. He loves you and you know it."

* * *

"That sure took a long time to retrieve something ye forgot at yer flat," Beathan teases as Marianne walks in the door. "Did ye get lost or some...Bhaltair!

"Hey, Beathan," Bhaltair greets, grunting as Griselda runs up to hug him.

"Not that I'm not happy to see ye but ye shouldn't go against the Justice's orders," Griselda scolds softly.

"It's okay, Gran," Bhaltair reassures, returning the hug. "Constable Zephyr got it taken care of. We talked to Inspector Andrews and he's going to talk to the Justice in the morning."

Griselda beams up at Marianne in gratitude before finally letting her grandson out of her crushing grip. Both women watch as Bhaltair walks hesitantly over to Beathan sitting on the couch.

"Sorry, Beathan. I really made a bad cock-up this time," Bhaltair mumbles. "I should have listened to you about not driving and I shouldn't have used Bo...Dad against you. I told the police the truth like I should have done in the first place."

"Yeah, ye should have," Beathan grumbles before grinning. "Why can't I stay angry at ye? I wanted to wallop ye but ye look too pitiful, ye numpty."

"I look pitiful," Bhaltair scoffs, his own grin surfacing? "At least now you can't argue about me being taller than you, little brother."

"Little! I am too taller than ye," Beathan argues. "Missing legs don't count."

Griselda chuckles softly as the boys fall into harmless banter. It stops when Bhaltair sits down on the couch next to his brother and Puck steals the remote control in their distraction. Bhaltair rushes to grab the bird at Beathan's frantic orders and Beathan wrestles the remote control out of his beak.

"Go watch yer own tv, Puck," Beathan scolds. "Ye're not stealing ours."

"Why does the bird have his own telly," Bhaltair asks?

"He keeps trying to turn the volume up and the remote control to his tv has the volume buttons removed," Beathan chuckles. "Marianne forgot to warn me never to let him have our remote control. He grabbed it yesterday while I was watching some shows then he flew off with it and found Barney and Friends. He put the volume at the highest level during the closing song before Marianne ran in here to grab the dafty bird."

"Barney and Friends! He really is daft," Bhaltair laughs.


	15. Chapter 15

"Bhaltair hasn't called Bog his da in four years," Griselda whispers in amazement. "What did ye say to him?"

"Only the truth," Marianne murmurs back. "Where is Bog anyway?"

"He had to go to work for a little, after all," Griselda answers. "He forgot several important documents that he needs out tomorrow."

"Depending on what Bog has to say, Bhaltair wants to stay here for a while and has a duffle bag in my car," Marianne comments, looking over to the preoccupied boys. "You told me that what happened between Bog and Angelina was bad but doesn't justify Angelina's present actions. There is still time for your family to be fixed but only a little bit left before the boys get too restless from things kept from them."

"I understand what ye're getting at," Griselda sighs. "Maybe it is time to let everything out."

"Better to fix it now before it becomes too late," Marianne murmurs.

"Why are you helping our family," Bhaltair questions, startling both women? "You didn't really give me a real answer before."

Marianne sighs at both boys' serious expressions. It was only fair but that didn't make it any less difficult. 'And they do deserve to know as well as Bog since I'd be their step-mother if we get that serious,' she relents. Walking over to the birds' cabinet, Marianne pulls out the picture frame from where she put it and hands it to the boys.

Griselda notices the figure approaching the door through the window and motions him to be quiet. The other occupants show no sign of acknowledging the opening door as their focus remains on the picture.

"This is yer family," Beathan asks?

"Yep," Marianne confirms, pointing to each person. "My dad Donald, my mom Annabelle, my little sister Dawn, and the son my parents didn't have and the man I was supposed to marry, Roland. I haven't spoken to any of them in over nine years. I left America to find myself and when I did, it felt like it was too late to go back."

"Find yourself," Bhaltair repeats?

"I'll start from the beginning," Marianne remarks. "My parents were married and tried for a baby for several years before I was born. The doctors called me a miracle child because they had declared that Mom couldn't get pregnant. Nobody thought that she would be able to have another child and as such, from the time I was born my parents had my entire life planned. My mom always wanted to be a nurse but her parents were poor and she didn't do well enough in school. My dad inherited the construction company and by that time he had already turned it into a supply company that would pass to me. I learned at a young age to never do or show anything that didn't line up with their dream for my life. I had to be who they said I was and that was all that I was."

"They didn't listen to what ye wanted to do," Beathan growls!

"It wasn't really their fault," Marianne defends. "Looking back on everything, I don't think they even knew that their dream wasn't my dream. I didn't want to disappoint them, so I never told them that I didn't want to be a miracle-working nurse or a successful businesswoman. Everything was already planned and set-up by the time Mom had Dawn when I was twelve. Then Roland started working for Dad's company right before I graduated high school."

"High school," Bhaltair asks, exchanging a look with his brother?

"That's American for secondary school," Marianne corrects with a chuckle. "I was also already taking college...university-level studies before I graduated."

"Cor! So you're naturally brilliant," Bhaltair remarks. "You could have shown up earlier and helped us with this last year of school. It's brutal."

"Forget it. You're doing it on your own," Marianne counters, ruffling both red and black scruffy-haired heads.

"But I'm injured," Beathan protests, a cheeky grin surfacing!

"Your brain will work fine once the doctor clears that you're able to go back to doing schoolwork," Marianne mentions. "Anyway. At first, I didn't really notice anything change because I was too focused on my studies and then my parents started hinting about what a great couple Roland and I would make. He slowly became a part of our family. I went off to college...university and while I was studying nursing and business, we started dating. He was supportive of the fact that I wanted to finish my degrees before we got married."

"Did ye love him or was this also something ye were doing because yer parents expected it," Griselda interrupts?

"I...," Marianne sighs heavily. "Even looking back, I don't even know. I started dating him because my parents wanted us to be together then somehow we were engaged before I even knew it. Roland said he loved me and I thought that even though I didn't love him like all the romances define love that I would grow to love him like that. It took the day of my wedding to find out how unhappy I was with life."

"What happened," Bog questions, causing startled amber eyes to focus on him?

"It was a little before the service and I had made a boutonniere for him," Marianne admits, turning her attention back to the picture. "I thought it would be a cute gesture, so I ignored the wedding superstition of the bride and groom not seeing each other before the wedding. I went looking for him and I found him already occupied. For all his talk of romance and love, he never kissed me like that."

"He was cheating on ye/you!"

"Truthfully, the cheating part never bothered me, not really," Marianne chuckles humorlessly. "Seeing Roland with that woman made me realize that he was also doing something that was expected of him. He didn't love me like he said but only did what he did because my parents thought we were the perfect couple. I went back to my dressing room at first, embarrassed and scared and lonelier than I ever felt. Looking into the mirror, I didn't know who I was. I had a master's degree in operations management, a doctorate degree in nursing, and I nearly just married someone that I knew I didn't love as I should have. All because it was expected of me. But who was I? Everyone knew who Marianne Nessa Zephyr was except Marianne Nessa Zephyr."

"Oh, ye poor lass," Griselda moans!

"So, that's why ye ran away," Bog murmurs.

"Ran away. Yeah, that's what I did. The unoriginal runaway bride, that's me," Marianne quips. "I couldn't face anyone or their questions, so I changed out of my wedding gown, somehow slipped away unnoticed, and took the first flight back home. Though I did leave a note just in case they thought I was kidnapped by goblins or something."

"Seriously? Ye really thought they would think ye were kidnapped by goblins," Beathan laughs?

"Seriously," Marianne swears. "Dawn's imagination was running wild at our wedding location and she swore there were fairies everywhere. The Scottish theme there probably had a lot to do with that. It's also what gave me the idea to take a world-wide tour because when I got home everything reminded me of someone I didn't know. If just being at a different location in America could make me see that I wasn't happy with who I was then maybe visiting different locations in the world could help me find me. With that idea, I packed everything that I thought I would need, emptied my bank account, and decided to stop in Scotland first."

"But you never talked to your family again," Bhaltair questions?

"Once you leave, it's nearly impossible to go back," Marianne remarks, looking at both boys seriously. "You first start questioning everything you know about them and then questioning everything you know about yourself until you become paralyzed at the thought of everything changing but staying the same. I planned on going back but when I landed in Scotland I felt such peace that I was afraid of going back and losing it. Then I met Constable Brutus McGee and the only thing he expected of me was that I obey the speed limit."

"I take it that ye got a speeding ticket," Griselda chuckles.

"In my defense, you are allowed to go over the speed limit by five miles without getting a ticket in America," Marianne explains. "I didn't realize that wasn't acceptable here until he pulled me over. It was also a hard habit to break when I decided to live here. However, no matter how many times Brutus gave me a ticket, it was refreshing to be around someone whose only expectation of me was the same thing they expected of everyone else. He's also the reason I got into Police Scotland."

Marianne smiles at that memory and picks up Plum from Beathan's lap. The cockatoo coos at the scratches causing Puck to fly over for his own scratches.

"It was shortly after I got these two and was coming home from work. I wasn't paying enough attention to my speed because I was a little depressed about my job. It's kind of hard working in a place where most of the time you see people's lives end, especially when it isn't a job you really wanted in the first place no matter how good you are at it. Brutus pulled me over with a 'Ye've been here long enough, American. I'm not gonna go easy on ye anymore.' Like he ever went easy on me," Marianne scoffs. "He asked me what my excuse was this time and I told him that I was thinking about getting a different job. He made the mistake of telling me that I better not try going for Police Scotland because I would never be able to make it. Challenge accepted!"

"Ye became an officer because Brutus told ye not to," Bog laughs?

"Pretty much," Marianne chuckles. "I applied for the Academy and I think they accepted me just to see me fail. It turns out that I really love doing police work and I excelled better in it than I did in nursing or in business. You should have seen Brutus' face when I became part of the Road Policing Unit and Inspector Andrews assigned him to be my partner for my probation period. Of course, I wasn't much better when he requested that I stay his partner once the two years were up. By that time, the pet name American was shortened to Meri unless I make an American mistake."

"So that's why Jason called ye Meri. I thought it was shortened from Marianne," Griselda comments.

"Everyone there calls me Meri. Although I keep telling them that I'm technically Scottish since I got my citizenship years ago but their reply is that I'll always be their little American or their little Meri," Marianne remarks before shaking her head and placing one hand on each boys' cheek. "That's the deal of it, boys. I grew so frustrated at the way my life was because no one really saw me or I thought no one saw me and I left. I haven't regained my courage to go back and it's been over nine years. You two are still here, you can still fix your bonds before it becomes too late. That day in the ICU ward, I could see the same look I saw reflected in the mirror that fateful wedding day in both of your eyes. I don't want you two to lose everything because you can't find yourself. That's why I'm helping you because my heart tells me that I can help and I want to help."

Marianne wipes away the tears that fall from the pair of shimmering blue eyes. She smiles gently at them before turning her attention to their father.

'One skeleton down and one more to go.'


	16. Chapter 16

"Angelina, yer mother, was the best friend I had outside of the clan," Bog murmurs, staring at his sons across from him. "She was so sweet and gentle and kind. She was also very shy since her family had just moved here from London in her fifth year of secondary school. I couldn't help but fall in love with her but I didn't have the courage to say or do anything. It was in the last part of our sixth year when she invited me to go with her to a party at an empty. She was invited but felt uneasy about going alone. I figured that meant that she liked me too and I was going to ask her out on a date. Stupidly, I thought a bit of liquid courage could help but then I got drunk."

"Mum wasn't lying then," Bhaltair mutters. "About you raping her."

Bog cringes at the accusation and Beathan's shocked look. Sighing heavily, he walks into his home office and brings a cardboard box back into the living room. Opening it, he pulls out a picture from a file and hands it to the boys. The picture shows a younger Bog with his arm wrapped around a younger Angelina's waist and surrounded by party guests.

"I figured drinking the spiked punch was safer than drinking straight-up but I got so drunk that I don't even know what happened that night," Bog admits. "Yer mother said that she wasn't going to file charges against me because we were friends. I told her that I would do anything to repair the damage that I had done but she told me that she didn't want anything to do with me ever again."

"So, ye did rape her but it wasn't intentional," Beathan comments. "Does that even still count as rape since ye were too drunk to know what ye were doing?"

"There's no clear answer for that," Marianne answers, looking at the photo herself. "It would be for the High Court to decide whether he would be guilty or not."

"Even if the High Court decided that I was innocent, the charges would be damaging just for being filed," Bog remarks. "Then a little over two months later, yer mother came to me to tell me that she was pregnant and told me to pay for the abortion or she would file the rape charges. Not only did feel terrible for hurting Angelina but I was terrified of what would happen to Da and Maw, the rest of the clan, and Firth Construction if it ever got out. I begged her not to file the charges and not to have the abortion. I was already working at Firth Construction at the time, so I told her that I would pay for everything and since she still insisted that she didn't want the bairn, I told her that once it was born that I would take full responsibility."

"You wanted us," Bhaltair asks in surprise?

"Of course," Bog states, looking at both his sons! "Even before ye were born and before I knew that there were two of ye, ye were my bairns."

"Yer da finally came to me and yer granda to tell us what happened," Griselda mentions. "Yer granda, being smart, called our solicitor, Basil Fish, and told him to come over right away. He figured yer maw would be more at ease with the whole arrangement if it was drawn up on legal-binding paper. It clearly stated the Bog would be responsible for all her medical bills that were related to the pregnancy and since it wasn't safe for her to work, it stated that Bog would pay her a weekly allowance until the second month after the bairn's birth. There were also payments for the house she wanted to live in and the monthly utility bills that were to be paid until the second month, as well."

"Mum was also telling the truth about her dad kicking her out of the house for being pregnant then," Bhaltair comments.

"I'm not sure about her being homeless because of being pregnant since after yer mother graduated secondary school, yer granda moved in with his mistress and yer gran moved back to London," Bog remarks. "She was already living with a friend when she came to me about an abortion but I'm unsure of when she found out that she was pregnant."

"That does explain why we've never met any of Maw's family," Beathan mutters. "Okay, so let me get this straight. Ye got drunk at a party, got Maw pregnant, and then told her that she didn't have to do anything with us except giving birth to us when she wanted to have an abortion. Ye even drew up a contract to prove to Maw that ye won't back out of the agreement. So what happened then?"

'That summed it up rather nicely,' Marianne silently chuckles, still staring at that picture. She couldn't put her finger on it precisely but there was something about that picture that was raising alarm bells in her head.

"Da," Bog mumbles sadly. "I guess ye need to know about this part as well."

"I'll do it, dear," Griselda interrupts. "Ye know that yer granda died a few weeks before ye were born but no one talks about what happened. While he was working, he had a coughing fit that wouldn't stop and they rushed him to the infirmary when he couldn't breathe. He loved to smoke pipe baccy and so did his own da but for him, it turned fatal. He had lung cancer and we didn't even know it since that stubborn man refused to go to the doctor most of the time. His lung had collapsed and yer father and I got to the ICU ward just before he died."

"After the funeral yer mother said that she was sorry to bring it up at a painful time but she had decided to keep both bairns herself," Bog continues. "She had already talked to her own solicitor and Jock Tavers said that the contract was invalid by claiming that she didn't know what she was doing at the time with her being under so much emotional distress. With Da being gone so suddenly, I didn't know what to do. We went before Sheriff Wicker and he ruled that Angelina wasn't under obligation to give up her mother's rights."

"Wait," Bhaltair starts!

"What," Beathan finishes?

"Even I'm confused," Marianne mutters. "Angelina signed a contract that pretty much declared that she didn't want the baby and then decided that she did want the baby. I can understand that part but what I don't understand is why you had to go to the Sheriff's Court."

"No one knew the full truth except us. As far as everyone thought, the lads are a result of a short-term fling between Angelina and I. It's how we got the contract legal because we had to go in front of the previous Sheriff, Sheriff Duff, before he retired," Bog explains. "Cousin Basil remarked that if she wanted to go back on a contract that was agreed by Sheriff Duff then she would be obligated to repay all that I had paid. Mr Tavers argued that it was unjust for her to do so and that I was obligated to keep paying, both child maintenance fees and what was in the contract."

"How did that work out," Bhaltair asks?

"The new Sheriff, Sheriff Wicker, ruled that the contract was only valid with one bairn since we didn't know that she was carrying twins and that I had to pick which one I wanted but that the other belonged to its mother," Bog remarks. "However, with the contract stating that I was taking responsibility and also that Angelina would be unable to work so as to care for the bairn that she took then I would be responsible for her welfare as well."

"So, ye were forced to pick one of us," Beathan comments. "Why'd ye pick me? Maw said it was because I'm older but Marianne told Bhaltair that he is older."

"When ye both were born it would have been far easier to rip my skin off then pick which one of my lads to keep and the other to give up. I loved ye both so much," Bog mentions, laying a hand of each boys' shoulder. "When the doctors found the cardiomyopathy, I had to choose ye, Beathan. Yer mother wouldn't have been able to give ye the medical care ye needed to stay alive. I named ye 'life' so that ye would always remember to fight for life. That doesn't mean that it was easy for me to make that decision to give ye up, Bhaltair. I would have rather torn my heart out but I had to choose one of ye to keep and the other to stay with yer mother. Ye was healthy and yer brother was sick. I named ye 'ruler of the army' so that ye would always remember to be strong and fight for others. I messed up my life but ye two are my pride and joy."

Bog hits the back of the recliner as his arms get filled with Bhaltair, crying and clinging to him. He's quite sure that Beathan would have joined in tackling him but he's glad that Marianne leaned over the couch to embrace the other crying teenager instead. He was so afraid that his sons would hate him, instead, his heart soars at hearing his eldest calling him dad again and feeling the clinging grip to his outstretched hand from his youngest.

"It makes a lot of sense why you didn't want to tell us before we were grown," Bhaltair sniffles, sitting back down on the couch. "But how come Mum lied to me?"

"Don't blame yer maw," Bog sighs. "She was such a different person before all this happened. It's not her fault that she became so angry and bitter, it's mine."

"Everyone has to be accountable for their own actions, Bog," Marianne comments, handing Beathan's medicine to him. "Even if the situation isn't your fault, it is your fault how you respond to it. You haven't lied to your sons, keeping some vital facts from them isn't the same thing as lying and you had your reasons for it. However, Angelina has lied to both of them, including the morning before the accident. Didn't she, Beathan?"

"How did ye figure that out," Beathan asks?

"Figure what out," Bhaltiar questions?

"When I came to pick ye up, Maw told me some things," Beathan murmurs. "About how Da didn't want either of us and he didn't even want to take me except with Granda dying he needed to have an heir. She said that as soon as Da got another lass pregnant that he'd want nothing more to do with me."

"What," Bog growls, grunting as Griselda's hand keeps him in his seat!

"I guess my head got kinda messed up and then everything happened and I'm so sorry for the way I've been acting, Da," Beathan continues before beaming up at Marianne. "It might be wrong to be glad that Roland cheated on ye but if it wasn't for ye catching him then ye might have married the bampot. I'm glad that ye're here, Marianne."

"When you put it like that then I'm glad everything happened the way it did in my life," Marianne chuckles softly, wrapping Beathan in another hug.

Bhaltair sticks his tongue at his twin for the smug look thrown his way before laughing as Beathan returns the gesture. It was nice to be a family again. 'Just a shame that it took Beathan losing his legs to bring us back together,' he thinks before his mood darkens again. There were still things left unanswered and he had to know.

"You said that the courts ordered you to pay child maintenance fees," Bhaltair starts. "But Mum said that the courts couldn't order you to do so because you had Beathan and that you refused to help out. She said that she paid for everything I needed."

"With ye not knowing the whole truth all these years, I can understand that ye're having a hard time believing everything," Bog comments, pulling out the large books from the cardboard box. "I'm not asking ye to take me at my word. I know it's not enough anymore. This one has the contract that was approved by Sheriff Duff and the receipts to the payments I made for yer mother's welfare up until after ye were born, as well as the court order from Sheriff Wicker. The other books are records of the past eighteen years with the receipts to the payments concerning yer's and yer mother's welfare."

Bhaltair hesitantly grabs the offered book and opens it with Beathan leaning over to peer into it as well. The plastic page protectors don't obstruct their view as both boys read the legal document with the Sheriff's seal testifying to the truth. Turning each plastic covered page reveals the validity of their father's confession with receipts marked for medical, house rent, utilities, and private use. Reading the second court order causes both boys to exchange looks when they catch what Bog had not revealed to them in entirety. Quickly, they grab the other books to peer through. Payments made for medical, house rent, utilities, and private use continues with added receipts marked clothes, food, schooling, and Bhaltair's private use.

Bhaltair rubs his hand over his leather jacket that he loves so much as he grabs the book labeled, last year, and notices the receipt for it. 'Mum said it was a gift from her because I was doing so well in school,' he groans silently. 'Dad paid for everything I needed and wanted. How could Mum lie to me about everything?'

"That's a lot of money for a construction worker's salary," Beathan notes. "Seriously, Da, how minted are ye?"


	17. Chapter 17

Handing a piece of sliced apple to Puck and Plum, Marianne glances back into the living room with a soft smile. 'This has been one rollercoaster of a day,' she muses. 'Who knew talking to Bhaltair would lead to all this?' She turns her eyes away from the three lanky figures on the couch and finishes the apple pie before placing it into the oven.

"I used to think that baking around toddlers was hard but these two are worse," Griselda chuckles, moving the mashed potatoes away from Puck.

Marianne snickers and grabs the mischievous bird. She gives one of the carrots to appease him and shoos him into the living room with the other males. Plum merely cocks her head from her perch on the chair and watches Griselda put together Shepard's Pie for dinner.

"Puck gets into more things than Plum does. I think it's his hobby," Marianne remarks.

"Little lads do that," Griselda snickers. "It's nice to have these two around, though. They bring a bit of happiness with them and it'll be sad to see them go."

"I was thinking about that," Marianne mentions.

"Thinking about what, dear," Griselda questions?

"About maybe not taking Puck and Plum home with me," Marianne answers, not catching the other woman's suggestive tone. "They'd be happier here where it's bigger and they get more attention. Plus, Beathan has gotten rather attached to them and them to him."

"Ye're thinking about giving Puck and Plum to Beathan," Griselda asks?

"Really," Beathan questions excitedly, turning around on the couch?

"Tadhg gave them to me because he wanted them to be taken care of properly and I originally only meant to keep them until I found someone who would be able to do a better job than me," Marianne comments. "I work most of the time and I live in a small studio flat. It's not exactly ideal conditions for a cockatoo to enjoy life, let alone two of them."

"Ye hear that, Puck," Beathan remarks, scratching Puck's head! "Marianne says that yer going to stay here!"

Puck leans into the scratches before falling over and causes everyone to laugh at his startled expression. He quickly decides to laugh too and bounces on top of the couch.

"See," Marianne points out. "He loves it here. As long as you don't mind, Bog and Griselda?"

"I don't mind," Bog admits, giving Plum a scratch after she flies over to the couch.

"I think it's a nice idea," Griselda remarks. "It's not like ye're giving them up completely since ye'll be coming around so often. Really, ye could just move in yerself."

Marianne's eyes widen as she catches the hint this time and flushes red. Bog is no better and buries his red face into his large hands. Bhaltair and Beathan snicker as they exchange looks with the unrepentant and very smug elderly woman.

* * *

"Your mother has no shame, does she," Marianne snickers?

"Not one gram," Bog sighs before taking a sip of the cooling hot chocolate. "We've aired out our skeletons and now she's determined for us to be a couple."

Marianne chuckles with Bog at the reminder of the woman's persistence all throughout dinner. Which only got worse when Marianne informed everyone that her holiday would be ending in four days. There wasn't any need for staying out of work for more than a week and she had already informed Robert and Brutus. That resulted in Beathan claiming that he wouldn't be healed enough and that Marianne had to stay on holiday for two weeks.

"I told Griselda that me staying here would make Beathan more attached to me," she murmurs. "I'm glad I could help your family but I can't help but wonder if this was a good idea. We've only gone on one date and have only known each other a little over two weeks."

"Are ye doubting me or just yerself," he questions?

"Truthfully, neither," Marianne smirks. "I've gotten to know myself pretty well over the past nine years. There is the concern, however, that you wanted the boys only to view Angelina as their mother and that you didn't want to get serious until your entire need for contact with her was completely finished."

"I think the fact that both lads are clinging to ye in such a short time is a clear indication that Angelina wasn't a real mother to them. It's like their starved for a mother despite having one. I don't understand it," Bog groans. "She came after the funeral saying that now that she felt the life in her that she couldn't bear giving them up and I was okay with it. I told her that I wanted her to be their mother and that I wouldn't take them from her but she said that she didn't want me to be their father. She wanted me out of their whole lives except for needing the money."

"But the legal contract prevented that, correct," she guesses?

"Correct," he confirms. "Basil refused to give in and refused to let me give in, even when Angelina threatened to file the rape charges if I didn't comply."

"Bog, how are you so sure that you did rape her if you don't even remember," Marianne questions? "If she was drinking the party-punch as well then she would have been a bit drunk too and it could've been a drunken romp. Also, despite how much the boys look like you now, how were you so sure at first that they were even yours?"

"She admitted to being a bit tipsy but she didn't drink as much as me. Though, even if we were both sober, she wouldn't have been able to stop me," Bog remarks, ruffling his hair. "When she confronted me about it, I didn't really believe her at first since I couldn't remember but she brought that picture with her as proof. The lad who was throwing the party had taken a lot of pictures and caught that one with me clearly drunk and clinging to her. He also confirmed that we disappeared together but he didn't think to care since we weren't the only ones. For that last question, well, I wasn't that gullible. A paternity test was done at the hospital and confirmed that they are mine."

"That picture," Marianne mumbles, rubbing her fingers together around her mug. "Bog, can I borrow that picture tomorrow?"

"Why," Bog ask slowly?

"There is something that is bothering me about it. Don't ask more because I can't really explain," she remarks. "I'll take Bhaltair to school tomorrow and then I'm gonna stop at the station to talk to Jason."

"Marianne," he groans in a panic! "Ye can't take that to my cousin! No one knows about this and if he knew then he'd be forced to investigate. Just the mention of the charges would be great enough to damage, not just me but everyone in Firth Construction."

Marianne sighs and places her mug onto the table before taking Bog's face between her hands. His panic freezes within seconds as a light blush appears on his face through the twilight and she barely holds back the impulse to kiss the flustered man.

"Believe me, if I thought this would be a bad idea then I wouldn't do it," she reassures.

"How are ye so sure that it isn't a bad idea," he questions? "I can't even defend myself because I was too drunk to know what happened and the lads are proof that it did happen."

"You can't keep living under this fear," Marianne comments, combing one hand through his hair. "I can't explain to you right now why I need to talk to Jason but I promise you that I will not let anyone hurt you or the boys. Do you really want to keep going through what Angelina did before dinner?"

Bog sighs roughly and leans more into her gentle touch before closing his eyes. It was far nicer to be reminded of his mother's matchmaking than his once-love's actions. She clearly did not appreciate coming home to an empty house and a note from Bhaltair saying that he was staying at his dad's house for the night. Forget that the boy was eighteen and in his last month of secondary school, no, she just had to call to yell at Bog for corrupting her son.

_"How dare you make Bhaltair break the law," she screeched as soon as he answered the phone! "Bad enough that your son is undisciplined but that you have to make my son as well."_

_"I didn't make Bhaltair do anything," Bog sighed. "He was here when I came home from the office. He already talked to the traffic inspector and he said that Inspector Andrews gave him permission to visit his brother under supervision."_

_"You expect me to believe that Bhaltair decided to do that all on his own," Angelina scoffed. "No doubt he was forced to by that slag you're shagging."_

_"What did ye say," Bog growled! "Say what ye will about me but Marianne is not a hoore and I'll not let ye talk that way about her."_

_"Then what was she doing in my house alone with my son," she countered. "I've also heard told that she's been rather cozy with Beathan as well."_

_"That's enough," he snarled!_

_"Really, Bogart, you're getting awfully worked up about her. You used to care that way about me," Angelina murmured. "Until that fateful night, anyway, when you got what you wanted. Someone should warn her about you."_

_"I'm through dealing with ye, Angelina," Bog warned. "Bhaltair is grown and can speak for himself."_

It may have been cowardly but he threw the phone to Bhaltair for him to deal with his mother. He couldn't even scold the boy for the muttered "wanker" when he ended the call after a brief and anger-filled conversation. The only good thing about that whole mess was that Beathan was taking a nap when she called and hadn't heard a thing. Bhaltair still hadn't said what she talked to him about but both boys were settling down peacefully in Beathan's room by the time Bog and Marianne had decided to sit in the garden.

Bog opens his eyes again and laughs softly as he notices the curtain in Beathan's room move. Soft laughter from Marianne reveals that she noticed their spies, as well.

"Alright," Bog concedes. "If ye think this will help then ye can take the picture."

"It will help. Also, don't worry about picking Bhaltair up from school, I'll do it," Marianne remarks, holding her hand up at his protest. "I can handle Angelina. You have to take Beathan to therapy in the afternoon and the past two days have been enough stress on him."

Getting a compliant nod, Marianne reluctantly removes her hands from him and picks up her drink again. She barely takes a sip before movement between the garden beds catches her attention. Biting her lip to keep from laughing out loud, Marianne watches the small group of rabbits head toward the small covered enclosure at the end of the stone deck.

"Ah, ye haven't met our Peter Rabbit and Benjamin Bunny yet, have ye," Bog whispers? "Maw has a deal with them. She gives them food and they leave her garden alone."

"Is she successful," Marianne questions softly?

"More or less," he snickers. "At any rate, my cousin across the glen is appreciative for Maw's efforts to keep the local population healthy and fed. He loves roasted rabbit."


	18. Chapter 18

"I thought ye were on holiday this week, Meri," Jason remarks. "But yesterday ye came in and now ye're here in my office today. I'm thinking that ye can't stay away."

Marianne joins the lanky brunette in laughter as she closes his office door and takes a seat before his desk. She ignores the raised eyebrow at her behavior but doesn't miss the normally joyful brown eyes turn serious.

"I take it that this is an official visit," he comments.

"What all do you know about the situation between Bog and Angelina," she questions?

"Ye need to ask Bog about that, not I," Jason remarks.

"I did and I know everything but I need to know exactly what you know," Marianne insists.

"Well, for starters, everyone in the clan nearby knew that Bog had a crush on her," Jason starts. "All anyone knows for sure is that something happened to ruin their budding romance and they stopped being inseparable. Then two months later it was found out that Angelina was pregnant with Bog's bairn but she didn't want it and demanded that he pay for the abortion since her family couldn't afford it. Bog offered an alternative of her carrying the bairn full-term to which he would then take full responsibility once it's born and he'd pay for everything that she'd need. Uncle Lachlan, his da, helped them make it legal and binding to reassure her that he wouldn't be able to change his mind. Everything was fine up until Uncle Lachlan died, then she came around saying that she wanted to keep the bairns, for by that time it was discovered that she was carrying twins. Although, if ye ask me, she only came back because she found out that with Uncle Lachlan dead, Bog had inherited Firth Construction. Wait, ye did know about that, right?"

"Don't worry, Jason," Marianne chuckles at his worried expression. "He told me and the boys yesterday that he actually owns Firth Construction. Continue."

"Alright, so she came back with her solicitor and tried to claim that the contract was invalid," he continues. "There was a legal skirmish but in the end, the newly-appointed Sheriff ruled that the contract was partially valid to the point that Bog got one bairn but the other bairn belonged to Angelina. He also ruled that Bog was financially responsible for the bairn that Angelina took. Since then, she has been a right terror. Everyone knows that she doesn't care for either lad, just that she makes Bog as miserable as possible. Now that that is out of the way. Why are ye here?"

"The boys were conceived at a party that Bog got drunk at and Angelina claims that he raped her," she answers.

"Dammit, American," Jason yells! "Ye can't say something like that to me! I'm an Inspector of the Investigation Unit!"

"And that's why I told you," Marianne calmly remarks. "I said that she claimed it. You and I both know that you need more than just your word to convince the law."

"Come again," he questions in confusion?

"Bog said that he got so drunk drinking the spiked party-punch that he doesn't remember that night. That means there is no clear way for him to defend himself from her accusation but that also means that he had no proof that her claim was valid. He said that when she confronted him after she found out that she was pregnant, he didn't believe her until she presented what proof she had," she explains, handing over the picture. "The person who was throwing the party was taking pictures of the party and caught this. She claimed that this was proof of her accusation. Come now, Inspector, as you said, you're an Inspector of the Investigation Unit, it shouldn't be too hard for you to catch the abnormality."

Jason stares at the picture in his hand. The picture spoke for itself, really. A group of teenagers in front of the refreshment table and all holding clear cups of party-punch, obviously spiked by the drunken expression on most of the teens' faces. He sighs at first, not getting what she was trying to point out but her serious expression when he starts to say something makes him take a closer look. 'Alright, it's something about Bog. So only look at him,' he orders himself.

Marianne jumps slightly at the string of yelled curse words coming from the man's mouth, some of which that she is sure is Scots Gaelic. 'He found it,' she snickers silently, watching him grab his papers furiously.

* * *

"How was school today," Marianne asks as Bhaltair approaches her car?

"Better," he comments. "I thought that Dad was going to pick me up, though."

"Sorry, I forgot to tell you. We decided last night that I would pick you up since Beathan has therapy and that it might not be a good idea to let your mother around him when she's...not happy," she explains.

"She's going to be less happy when I tell her what I've decided," Bhaltair comments, getting in the passenger seat.

"Is it about what you and Beathan were discussing secretly last night," Marianne questions?

"Do you have eyes everywhere or something," he scoffs playfully? "I'm beginning to think that you're the one that's fairy-born."

Marianne laughs with him as she pulls out onto the street and heads toward Angelina's house. The jovial mood doesn't last long and she notices an uneasiness taking over the teenager as the distance gets shorter.

"So, what did you decide that is making you so nervous to tell your mother about," she asks?

"Beathan and I were talking about everything. It's a lot to take in, you know, and we started comparing everything that we believed when we were growing up to how everything is now," he murmurs. "Even though Dad kept things from us, it wasn't like he kept anything from us that we needed to know to live our lives at the time and he also treated us the same. I wasn't any different to him than Beathan was. But Mum..."

"Is still you mother despite what she's done," Marianne interjects, hearing the anger in his rough sigh. "She does need to face the consequences of her actions but she still raised you."

"Hardly," Bhaltair snorts. "I actually saw very little of Mum when I was growing up. I was with nannies, at playgroup then at nursery then at school, every other weekend with Dad, and the holidays were with Dad, too, because she said that I should be with Beathan. Mum was rarely home during the day. She said it was because she worked but I saw those payments made to her, she had no reason to work. She always reminded me of what a burden I was to her."

"Don't let her bitterness become yours," Marianne warns. "No matter how right your anger may be, don't lose yourself in it."

"I'm tired of falling short," Bhaltair groans. "Ever since I was young, I hated going home to be with Mum because it felt like she didn't care. Then for four years, Mum let me believe that Dad didn't want me and didn't truly care about me. After I graduated, I planned on leaving and never looking back. I couldn't take it anymore."

Marianne feels a sharp pain radiate through her heart at his hopelessness. When she decided to help Bog and the boys, she didn't realize how close it was to things becoming irreparable. Barely three weeks left to go and Bhaltair would have been gone. No doubt that Beathan would have left as well. Unbidden, the memory of Bog broken down in his misery in the infirmary flashes through her mind's eye. 'Them leaving would have destroyed him,' she thinks, turning onto Angelina's street.

"I was planning on telling Dad when he picked me up just to make sure that he doesn't mind," Bhaltair continues. "But I can't keep doing this! I talked to Cousin Basil while I was at school to make sure there won't be any legal problems and he said that I had the legal right. I also talked to Inspector Andrews and he said that the Justice agreed to take the separation order off, so there won't be any problems there. You told Beathan that there is no shame in asking for help. Since you picked me up instead of Dad then I'm going to need your help."

"Help for what, Bhaltair," she questions?

"I'm moving out of Mum's house," he murmurs, groaning as the front door opens as they pull up to the house.

'Right,' Marianne growls before hardening her spine at the other woman's glare. It was obvious that Bhaltair expected a fight and it was also obvious that Angelina wouldn't give up her control without one. 'Good thing that I'm a fighter,' Marianne silently chuckles.

"I'll deal with her," she remarks to the worried teenager. "You just pack everything that belongs to you."

Bhaltair snaps his gaze away from his angry mother to Marianne at her confident tone and watches in awe as she exits the car. Feeling emboldened by her confidence, he quickly joins her side walking up to the house. 'Here we go,' he gulps.


	19. Chapter 19

"Look at ye," Bog croons, barely holding back his laughter!

Marianne growls at him before smirking as she passes by him carrying another box into the living room. Griselda was doing less better on containing her laughter at Bhaltair's enthusiastic tale and had to cover her mouth to keep from waking Beathan up.

"You should have been there. It was hilarious," Bhaltair snickers! "I've never seen Mum so angry but unable to do anything. She thought that calling the police would solve everything and her face when the responding officers ignored her to ask 'Meri' what the problem was, it was priceless."

"You may find it funny, not that I'm not saying that it isn't, but I'm the one who has to go to work in three days," Marianne remarks. "I'm going to be teased relentlessly for weeks for having the police called on me."

"Bhaltair is old enough to make his own decisions and Angelina shouldn't have tried to stop him," Griselda comments once her laughter settles. "It was a good thing that ye did offer to pick him up, Marianne."

"Mum really shouldn't have called Marianne a slag to her face, though," Bhaltair mutters.

"She did what," Bog growls?

"Don't worry about it," Marianne comments before heading out to bring in another box.

"Marianne was really great, though," Bhaltair mentions. "Mum was complaining loudly after I told her that I decided to move in with you and she said that she wouldn't let me take anything if I left. Marianne just stood firm, stated the laws, and told me to go get the things that belonged to me. She didn't even flinch when Mum started yelling at her instead."

"Ye're so patient. That just shows what a great mother ye'll make," Griselda hints as Marianne sets down the next box.

Marianne flushes red at the implications but holds back her own laughter as Bog stares incredulously at his mother. Deciding not to get involved in convincing the elderly woman to be patient herself, Marianne heads back out to grab the last box from her car.

"Right before we left, though, Mum said something to her," Bhaltair whisper. "I didn't hear it but whatever it was, it really made Marianne angry and she started yelling at Mum. Even the officers looked terrified and all the nosey neighbors disappeared. After Marianne had her say, she brushed herself off and walked back to the car as if nothing had happened."

* * *

Bog hums in delight as he bites into a freshly baked shortbread but yelps when a wooden spoon hits his knuckles.

"I told the boys no and that included you as well," Marianne growls.

"It's my house," Bog argues before stuffing the rest into his mouth.

Marianne chuckles at his chipmunk impression and places four cookies onto a plate. With a warning of not taking any more, she takes the plate to her temporary room where the boys are unpacking Bhaltair's things.

"It's only fair," she comments, holding the plate before the twins. "Your dad doesn't listen as well as you two."

Both boys laugh as they grab two apiece before turning their attention back to arranging everything. Marianne smiles at the delightful scene of both boys getting along, even as Beathan's arguments of "That's not going to fit there" follows her down the hall. She chuckles as his laughter echoes the house along with Bhaltair's curses and Griselda's admonishing call for language.

"Ye're a blessing, Marianne," Bog murmurs. "Yer pastries are divine, too."

She raises her eyebrow at him as she counts three fewer cookies than when she left. He grins unrepentantly and points to Puck and Plum sitting on the chair. Marianne scoffs before lightly punching his shoulder.

"Liar," she scolds. "They know better than to steal anything that isn't fruit or vegetables, the remote control doesn't count. Behave or I'll get your mother after you."

"Alright, tough lass," Bog laughs. "So, what did Angelina say to ye that got ye raging?"

"Bhaltair told you about that, did he? It doesn't matter. Her threats aren't going to work anymore," Marianne remarks.

"She tried to warn ye about me," he guesses, sighing at her groan? "She threatened to do that yesterday."

"Angelina also threatened to file the charges if I didn't leave you and the boys," she adds. "I told her that blackmail is illegal but me hitting her is justifiable."

"Jason came to my office during my lunch break and asked me to tell him of everything I remember about the party," Bog mentions. "He told me not to tell anyone what we've talked about or that it was an official visit but since ye're the one who put all this into motion then I don't think that included ye."

"I warned him to be careful in his investigation," Marianne comments. "For someone that hasn't talked to you since Bhaltair was discharged from the infirmary, Angelina knew an awful lot about me and you."

"What is he investigating," Bog asks? "He didn't really tell me."

"I can't tell you either," she remarks, pulling the second batch of cookies out of the oven. "Right now, it's mostly speculation but there is proof in the proof that Angelina gave you."

* * *

"I mean it, I don't mind sleeping on the cot for a few more days," Bhaltair insists.

"Besides, ye said that ye were going to stay with us for the whole week," Beathan remarks. "Ye can't back out with three days to go."

"Listen to the lads, dear," Griselda comments.

Marianne shakes her head, trying desperately to keep the smile off of her face. All she did was mention that they didn't have the extra room with Bhaltair moving in. She didn't even have the chance to suggest going home before that resulted in a sharp denial from the other occupants at the dining table. The ringing telephone interrupts any more conversation as Griselda goes to answer it.

"Oh, hello, Alastair," Griselda greets into the receiver! "Yes, Marianne is here. One moment. Marianne, dear, Alastair wants to talk to ye."

"Hello, Mr Codwell, is something wrong," Marianne asks after picking up the phone?

"Did ye come back to yer flat sometime today," Alastair questions?

"I stopped by yesterday morning but not today," Marianne answers.

"Yer neighbors contacted me to ask if ye had returned because they heard noise coming from yer flat this afternoon," Alastair remarks. "I checked it out already and the place is a mess. I wanted to make sure that it wasn't really ye before I called the police. Plus, it might be best if ye come here to answer anything they might ask."

"Alright. I'll be over in a little while," Marianne sighs.

"What happened," Beathan asks after she hangs up the phone?

"Someone broke into my flat this afternoon and Mr Codwell says that it is a mess," Marianne comments. "He wanted to make sure that it wasn't me before he called the police."

"Why would...," Bog starts before a knock on the door interrupts? "Who'd be coming at this hour?"

Bog quickly strides to the door to open it only to blink in surprise at seeing Jason. He moves to let his cousin in but can't help the feeling of dread rising up in him.

"I've got bad news, Bog," Jason announces. "Angelina filed rape charges against ye."

"What," Bog breathes?

"Dammit," Marianne growls, running a hand through her hair! "I didn't think that she'd actually do it!"

"Don't blame yerself, Meri," Jason remarks. "She filed them yesterday and I think that she's been planning on doing it for a while. I was only informed this afternoon because they were worried that I'd be unable to do my job because we're cousins."

"What's going to happen," Griselda questions?

"At the moment, nothing," Jason sighs. "She has to produce enough evidence for the High Court to even accept the charges since it's been so long. No matter what, I need ye to keep yer gob shut, Bog. The same goes for the rest of ye. Don't discuss this with anyone and if anyone tries to talk to ye about it then tell them what we've all believed, about it being a relationship gone sour and she's a bitter wench. I'll deal with the rest."

"You found something then," Marianne asks, noticing his determination?

"We're Mcgallrighs, Meri," Jason smirks. "We don't go down without a fight."

* * *

"What a day," Bog groans!

"No kidding," Marianne sighs. "It's been an eventful month, that's for sure."

Bog snorts before returning his attention to the rain gliding from the eaves and flowing through the rain chains while the wind chimes add another relaxing call from the stressful day. So does the warm body leaning against him as they watch the evening shower through the patio door. Bog hugs the smaller figure to himself before settling his head on top of her head.

"By the looks of things, it's going to get rougher before it gets better," he murmurs.

"I'm so sorry, Bog," Marianne mutters. "In an effort to help you, I've just made a mess of things."

"None of that," Bog orders, rubbing her shoulders. "It's not yer fault. It's like Jason said, she's been planning this for a while, probably since the day she first threatened me nearly nineteen years ago, and it has nothing to do with ye. Truth be told, I'm actually relieved that she finally filed the charges. I'm tired of living under the fear of her threats and always worried about what would happen. It's no life."

"Still," she starts.

Bog huffs before turning her head to face him and capturing her lips under his for a short kiss. Her dazed eyes after they flutter back open and shocked expression only make him lean down for another, longer kiss.

"Maybe ye are a catalyst," he comments, their lips brushing with every word. "But that's a good thing. Ye made me realize that there is more to living than being afraid of what might happen. Ye brought me and my lads together and made us deal with the truth. The lads know everything now and they've already decided for themselves what they believe in. Thank ye, Marianne."


	20. Chapter 20

"I think I preferred it when the other students ignored me," Bhaltair grumbles as he enters the front door.

"That bad, huh," Marianne questions?

"Worse," Bhaltair groans. "Even the teachers wanted to know if the rumors are true. How did that even get around so quickly in the first place? Dad didn't even know about it until last evening."

"People love gossip. But at least most of them want to know the truth except believing it straight out," Bog remarks, closing the front door behind him before making a beeline to the kitchen.

"Those are for later," Marianne growls!

Marianne holds the wooden spoon out like a sword but her threat merely draws a chuckle from the approaching man. Quick maneuvering and Bog manages to grab a fresh scone from the table before dancing out of the way of Marianne's counter-attack. Griselda snickers as the woman chases after her son only to be foiled as Bog grabs the rolling pin to block her retribution.

"Who needs a telly when they act this daft," Bhaltair snickers?

Beathan laughs in agreement with him as he turns off the television and turns around on the couch. Even the cockatoos fixate their attention to the makeshift battle of wills. Puck eagerly moving his head and wings while Plum flares her crest and bobs her head.

The sparring duo takes no notice of their audience, each bent on disarming their opponent. Or more precisely, Marianne trying to smack the cheeky man while Bog snacks on he pilfered scone before grabbing another and laughing at her enraged yell. His triumph is cut short when he miscalculates his footing and slams his back into the wall. The wooden spoon at his throat is accompanied by a triumphant smirk and he raises his hand in surrender after stuffing the second pastry behind his smug grin.

"You are a bad influence on your sons," Marianne tsks playfully. "How was work?"

"About as good as Bhaltair's school," Bog mumbles. "It's great that no one really believes the rumor but frustrating when they want answers that I can't give them."

"I just told everyone that Mum is a nutter," Bhaltair comments. "Also, that it's funny how it took nineteen years to file the charges and only after I decided to move out."

"That's all you said," Marianne asks, pointing the wooden spoon at the teen?

"That's all, I swear," Bhaltair defends, holding his hand up in defense!

Griselda covers her mouth to contain her mirth. Oh yes, Marianne is just what her boys needed. She watches as Marianne narrows her eyes and crosses her arms with the spoon tapping against her shoulder.

"The only thing I had told otherwise was what I mentioned to them yesterday about staying at Dad's house and that was because a few were asking how Beathan was doing," Bhaltair admits. "I didn't even tell them the whole reason why I moved into Dad's house, about being fed up with dealing with Mum. I just explained that I wanted to help Beathan and to make up for what an arse I've been."

"Ye have been an arse," Beathan snickers. "Did Jean start talking to ye again?"

"She said that I was a dunderheid and that I should have checked on you myself instead of believing that you were fine," Bhaltair mumbles dejectedly.

"Who's Jean," Marianne questions, turning back to her baking?

"The lass that both lads like," Griselda answers, grinning at both boys' protest. "However, she's a sensible lass and refuses to date anyone at the moment. A lot has to do with the fact that she takes care of her widowed great aunt when she's not in school."

"Don't believe Gran, Marianne. Jean is just our friend," Beathan insists. "We've known her since our second year of primary."

"Gran sees romances in everything," Bhaltair mutters.

"I'm hardly wrong," Griselda quips.

Bog shakes his head at his persistent mother before turning his attention back to Marianne. It's a nice reprieve from the stressful day to come home to the smell of freshly baked pastries, a delight that's been missing since his mother was forced to stop baking a few years ago because of hip surgery. The young woman now donning the faded apron is definitely an appealing touch and Bog places a kiss on her flour-covered cheek as he wraps his arms underneath said apron to rest them against her stomach.

"Did ye find out anything more about the break-in at yer flat," Bog asks?

"Yep but I got both good news and hilariously bad news," Marianne comments, leaning her back against his broad chest. "Like I said last night when I came back, there wasn't anything missing from my flat except my address book but what I didn't mention was that when I was checking to see if anything was missing, I found something suspicious among my things."

"How suspicious," Bog murmurs?

"Drugs-in-a-bag suspicious," Marianne remarks, snickering at the answering exclamations. "I made sure that I didn't touch them when I found them and Constable Merrit took them to be analyzed. The report came back that it is Ecstasy pills. However, everyone is laughing at how stupid the person who broke into my flat is because the report also came back with fingerprints that were not mine."

"They can't charge ye, can they," Beathan questions?

"Since they were found at a crime scene with clear evidence that someone had tampered with it and that the person didn't think of placing them in a container that did have my fingerprints, not really," Marianne comments. "It's obvious that the person was looking for something and planted the drugs."

"You said that there is bad news, so that means there's a but in there somewhere," Bhaltair quips.

"For non-related charges, I've been reported to the National Counter Corruption Unit," Marianne growls.

"How is that hilariously bad news? That sounds more like plain bad news itself," Bog comments.

"Oh, it's hilarious because the next time I see Angelina, she'll be the one heading to the ICU ward as a long-term patient," Marianne replies sweetly.

Bog shivers at the malice dripping from the smile gracing Marianne's face and catches both boys shrinking down on the couch. Though she be but little she be fierce and he almost felt sorry for his once-love. Almost, not quite. He smirks as he notices his mother's proud grin at the younger woman and can almost hear her wedding-related thoughts. 'Not that she's wrong,' he muses silently. 'Marianne definitely has the character of a Mcgallrigh bride.'

* * *

"No offense to ye, Gran, but I'm going to miss yer cooking when ye go home, Marianne," Beathan comments, handing the empty plates to Marianne.

"Oh I agree with ye, Beathan," Griselda reassures. "It's a joy to have someone around to help with the cooking. Bog isn't much help in the kitchen when it comes to more intricate recipes."

Marianne snickers at Bog's longsuffering sigh. A few kisses and cuddling resulted in more determination from the matchmaking trio despite Bog's insistence that they are not going any further until after all dealings with Angelina is done. Of course, she's not one to keep from fanning the flames, just a little. Marianne gives Bog a heated kiss on her way to the sink and smirks at the boys' loud laughter accompanied by Griselda's smug look.

"Don't encourage them," Bog groans!

"Encourage who," Marianne questions coyly, heated amber eyes looking over her shoulder?

Bog blushes as he clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck. He quickly grabs the other dirty dishes still on the table to avoid the other occupants' gaze. He stood by his decision but it was going to be awfully difficult with such a temptress around. Not that he thought that Marianne would turn out to be like Angelina, he just couldn't help feeling more cautious after everything that he's been through.

"Don't worry so much. I understand," Marianne murmurs lowly as he places the dishes by the sink.

"I feel like a coward," Bog mutters. "I'm not worried about ye, I swear. It's just..."

"Angelina has done so much damage and you want to keep from giving her a chance to ruin us," Marianne finishes. "We got time, Bog, so don't worry. The charges that she filed against you and me will prove false and several years from now, we'll laugh about how crazy she was."

"Since you've already decided that you're sticking around, I'd like to cast my vote for a baby sister," Bhaltair interrupts!

Griselda cackles as the non-couple couple blushes red from head to toe. The merriment doesn't last long, though, disappearing the instant a knock sounds on the front door and each occupant of the kitchen looks toward it with concern. After the news from last evening, there is no telling what kind of surprise is waiting for them.


	21. Chapter 21

Bog looks down at their guest with surprise. Of all the things he was expecting when he gathered his courage to open the door, the young man blinking owlishly up at him with his mouth dropped open in surprise, was not it.

"Who are ye," Bog asks?

"Is...is this the house of Bo...Bogart Mcgallrigh," the man stammers, looking at the paper in his hand before returning to stare at the tall man?

"I'm Bogart, now what do ye want with me at this hour of the day," Bog questions?

"You see, it's like this," the man starts before spotting Marianne walking into the living room. "Marianne!"

Bog blinks in surprise as the shorter man disappears from in front of him, zooming past him, and collides against Marianne in a hug. Closing the door, Bog watches as the rest of his family peeks out of the kitchen at the familiarity of the pair.

"Sunny," Marianne yells in surprise before returning the embrace! "You've grown!"

"Haha," Sunny chuckles dryly.

Marianne snickers as Sunny motions to their height difference with him barely making it to her shoulder, minus the spiky brown hair jetting from the red bandana wrapped around his head. Hard to believe this twenty-five-year-old man is the same teenager she last saw protecting Dawn from her make-believe fairies back at the failed wedding venue. The beaming smile from which he got the nickname Sunny is still the same though, as well as the freckles dotting his mocha skin, and she can feel her heart warming at the same hero-worship for her reflecting in his brown eyes.

"You're still the same Marianne," Sunny remarks.

Sunny yells in terror after Puck and Plum fly onto Marianne's shoulder and hiss in his face. Quickly releasing Marianne from his hug, Sunny runs to hide behind Bog and stares at the angry birds from a distance.

"What is that," Sunny whimpers?

"Sorry, Sunny. This is Puck and Plum," Marianne snickers. "They don't know you and you touched me without their permission. You committed an unpardonable sin according to them."

Sunny tentatively waves to the two birds only to shrink back behind Bog at their responding hiss. Bog snickers as the man's fear turns into awe as Marianne coos and pets the upset birds before placing them in their cage. Puck and Plum complain at the imprisonment and bite at the locked padlock.

"I guess you have changed some," Sunny amends with soft laughter. "You were always too busy for a pet before, even for an American iguana like Lizzie."

"I still don't know what Dawn was thinking when she bought me Lizzie instead of giving her to you in the first place," Marianne remarks. "Lizzie liked you better anyway."

"She still does," Sunny comments, blushing as he notices the curious stares as everyone else enters the living room. "I'm sorry for showing up like this. I'm Samson Fritz, though everyone calls me Sunny. I hope I haven't bothered anyone."

"Ye've more shocked us than anything," Griselda mentions. "I'm Griselda Mcgallrigh. Ye've met my lad Bogart and these are his lads, Bhaltair and Beathan."

"Now that the formalities are finished. How about ye answer why ye're here," Bog asks?

"I went to Marianne's apartment but her neighbor said that she was here, so I came here instead," Sunny answers.

"That doesn't explain why you're here in Scotland or how you even knew where I lived in the first place," Marianne comments.

"Right," Sunny chuckles, scratching the side of his neck. "Okay, it's like this. Yesterday, Donald got a call from a lawyer claiming that you had gotten into a lot of legal trouble. He said that he was looking for character witnesses to prove that you were mentally unstable. Donald told him that he would act as a character witness but he needed more information about the case. The lawyer told him that you've been in Scotland for the past nine years, so Donald booked the first flight available to come here and talk to the lawyer in person."

Bog watches worriedly as Marianne seems to shrink under the news. He couldn't imagine the hurt at hearing that your own father was willing to testify that you were mentally unstable. Sunny's obliviousness to her distress makes Bog want to smack to shorter man but from his animated gestures during his tale, it seems more like he is oblivious to everything at the moment.

"Neither Annabelle or Dawn thought it would be a good idea for him to travel alone and so I came with him to keep him out of trouble," Sunny continues before wailing softly and placing his hands on his face. "They're going to kill me, I just know it! Goodbye, cruel world! Here lies Sunny, killed by fiancee and going-to-be mother-in-law!"

Everyone starts laughing as he gets distracted by lamenting his short life equal to his short stature. Marianne shakes her head at the familiar quirk and shakes Sunny's shoulders to snap him out of his trance.

"Sunny, focus," Marianne orders through her laughter!

"Huh? Oh, right," Sunny mumbles. "Where was I?"

"Dad took the first flight to Scotland and you came with him," Marianne offers.

"Okay, so after we got here, we went straight to the lawyer's office," Sunny remarks. "He gave us the address to your apartment and told us that the courts would be far more lenient to you if you didn't fight the charges and that we, out of our love for you, should convince you to not fight them but admit your wrongdoings. Slimy guy that he is, offered us all the details of the charges against you and even had the nerve to tell us that you were selling drugs and also using them."

"Seriously," Beathan mutters? "And ye believed him?"

"Of course not," Sunny scoffs. "But how else would we get that slimeball to pay for two plane tickets from America to Scotland and find out where Marianne is if we didn't make him think that we believed it? There is no way that Marianne would do everything he said that she'd done."

"You didn't believe him at all? How come? I mean, nine years is long enough for someone to change," Bhaltair comments.

"Not Marianne," Sunny insists, looking back to Marianne with admiration! "The lawyer kept droning on about everything you're being accused of and stating the evidence against you. He wouldn't shut up until Donald asked him how he managed to contact him. He tried to say that he got it from the cops but there is no way that was the truth since the number he called isn't public knowledge."

"He called the family number," Marianne mutters, her eyes lighting with understanding. "Sunny, what was his name?"

"I think it's Jock Tavers," Sunny comments.

"That's Mum's solicitor," Bhaltair exclaims!

"Bingo," Marianne smirks. "Sunny, continue with your story."

"Well, Donald was getting really angry with the lawyer's attempts to avoid telling the truth and then I spotted your address book on his shelf. He tried to deny it but I know that book," Sunny defends! "Dawn and I saved all our money to get you that for your eighteenth birthday and even got it personalized with Nessa Zephyr on front."

"Nessa Zephyr," Bog interrupts?

"That's her birth name," Sunny explains. "Nessa Marianne Zephyr."

"Marianne Nessa Zephyr," Marianne corrects, a blush staining her cheeks. "I got it legally changed after my eighteenth birthday."

"And made me and Dawn cry for a week because our perfect birthday present wasn't accurate anymore," Sunny mutters. "But, hey, now we can call you the Loch Nessa Monst...OW!"

"Enough wisecracks, Samson," Marianne comments coolly.

Sunny rubs his hurt shoulder but can't contain his grin as he joins the resounding laughter. Marianne hadn't changed at all.

"You're here, so where is Dad," Marianne questions?

"I managed to grab the address book before the lawyer did and confirmed that it was yours. He then tried to say that he got it from you but by that time Donald had enough," Sunny moans, his hand returning to his face. "I can't believe he did it again! He's seventy-four for crying out loud! The cops took the address book when they arrested Donald..."

"What! Dad's in jail," Marianne yells, grabbing Sunny's shoulders in a panic!

"Yep," Sunny groans. "He beat-up the lawyer pretty bad, enough that they sent him to the hospital, and the cops laughed about it first before arresting Donald. I went looking for you because I don't have enough bail money this time."

"This time," Marianne repeats?

"Right, you don't know about the Roland Incident," Sunny remarks. "Boy, we are all glad you didn't marry that sleazeball! It's hard to believe that he fooled everybody. When you left, Donald said to believe in you and that you'd come back when you found what you were looking for. We all knew that you'd come back when you were ready but Roland took your disappearance pretty hard. He worked harder than ever at the company and we thought that he was just burying his grief, so we all consoled him. Then after Dawn graduated high school, they started dating."

"What," Marianne growls?

Bog moves quickly to rescue Sunny from Marianne's unconsciously tight grip. Not that he blamed her rage but no need to take it out on the messenger. He wraps his arms around her front and grins softly as she rests her hands on top of his.

"They explained that they got close while they were mourning your absence but waited because it wouldn't be right," Sunny explains, the previous happiness missing from his voice. "Everything happened so quick. One minute they were dating and the next they were engaged. Dawn didn't even have time for me anymore because best friends weren't as important as fiances. Then Roland confronted me and told me that after they are married that he better not catch me around his wife. He said that Dawn was his and she had no need for male friends to tempt her to be unloyal to her husband."

"What an arse," Bhaltair mutters.

"I tried to be happy for Dawn since she was happy but I couldn't help being worried about her with how possessive Roland was. He wasn't that way with you, was he, Marianne," Sunny asks?

"I was too busy in my studies to have close friends, remember? Although, I can't argue over how possessive Roland was," Marianne remarks. "Then what happened?"

"Well, I knew that Donald and Annabelle were a little uneasy of their union themselves. Probably because they were worried about what would happen when you returned," Sunny comments. "I figured that if I found enough proof that Roland wasn't a good match for Dawn then they would be able to convince Dawn to stop the wedding. I found it, all right. I followed him on one of his so-called business meetings and found him wrapped around someone else's wife. Though, maybe I should've taken a picture instead of calling Donald because he went to jail and Roland went to the emergency room."


	22. Chapter 22

"That's my girl," Donald remarks, wrapping Marianne in a tight embrace! "Coming to rescue your old man!"

"I can't believe you got into a fight, Dad," Marianne scolds softly!

"Wasn't much of a brawl from what I've heard," Jason chuckles. "Yer da hits hard and fast. The bampot didn't stand a chance."

Marianne raises her eyebrow at the approaching man and reluctantly leaves her father's hold. 'Business first, then family time,' she orders herself.

"What are you doing here, Jason," Marianne asks?

"Thought I'd deliver the good news myself," Jason grins. "Donald Zephyr was arrested on suspicion but now that the facts are known, he is free to go with just a warning to not cause any more trouble."

"What facts? This better not have something to do with the fact that he is my dad," Marianne warns, crossing her arms and causing the nearby officers to mind their own business.

"Naw, Meri. Except for the fact that ye apparently inherited yer good intuition and heart from him, anyway," Jason remarks. "Donald Zephyr was merely assisting us in apprehending a criminal. Tavers is now under arrest for trespassing, theft, and drug possession, probably more if ye give me a few days. However, yer address book is evidence and can't be returned to ye until after the hearing."

"So, Tavers is the one who broke into my apartment. I figured as much when Sunny mentioned that he called Dad on the family number," Marianne comments. "Is this connected with Angelina?"

"Now, Meri, ye know I can't tell ye anything," Jason smirks.

* * *

Marianne resists the urge to fidget as she drives her dad to the hotel that she took Sunny to. The silence was both a blessing and an ax waiting to fall. What to say after so many years and where to even start? She knows that she must have hurt him badly when she left without warning, she was his girl after all, and there's no telling how worried he was with the lack of reassurance that she was alive and well.

"I'm so sorry, Daddy," she murmurs, pulling into the hotel parking lot.

"Sorry? What for, sweetheart," Donald questions?

"For leaving like I did and for staying away so long," Marianne answers. "I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear, but I..."

"Everything is alright," Donald reassures, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Yes, it did hurt when I found out that you were truly gone. I'm not going to lie about that. But what hurt the most, was that I didn't even realize that you were unhappy. My little Nessa was unhappy and I didn't even know it."

"Marianne," she corrects, grinning at his chuckle before sighing. "I didn't even know that I was unhappy and when I realized it, I didn't know what to do except to go find it for myself. I didn't mean to stay away for so long but after a while, it became hard to go back. I got scared."

"My girl got scared? That I can't believe," he quips. "You faced life with tenacity and fearlessness, enough that you nearly gave me several heart attacks when you were growing up. After all, I got all this white hair before your sister was even born."

Donald sighs as his daughter doesn't rise to his bait. He was so happy to find out where she's been but now he couldn't help but worry that his re-appearance could destroy what measure of peace she had found. If it came to it then he would return home without a fuss and wait until she was ready. It might be hard to convince everyone else to leave her be but for Marianne, he would make sure they waited.

"I got scared of seeing your's and Mom's disappointment in me," Marianne confesses softly after a while.

"We could never be disappointed in you, Marianne. Never," Donald insists, forcing her liquid amber gaze to focus on him! "Had things turned out different, we may have been disappointed in your choices but not in you and only because we want what is best for you and what makes you truly happy. Only you can say what truly makes you happy, though. If you're happy here, doing what you're doing, then we're happy for you."

"Thanks, Daddy," she murmurs before catching something from his speech. "Wait, what did you mean by had things turned out different?"

"I've heard quite a few stories about you while I was waiting for the police to figure out what to do with me," he chuckles. "Once the officers realized that I was your father, the handcuffs went off and I heard enough that made me glad that I didn't know what mischief you've gotten into these past nine years."

"Mischief! Those liars! Don't believe them, Dad, I've been behaving perfectly," Marianne defends.

"Oh really, that isn't what your boss said," Donald smirks. "He said that you and your partner pulled over a drunkard who then tried to claim police brutality against you. You told the courts that you had a nursing degree and knew precisely how much pressure a bone could take before it broke and if you had intended to hurt him when you arrested him it wouldn't have been a stubbed finger."

Marianne cackles at the memory. Of course, Robert would bring that one up. It so shocked the courts that she was that candid that they threw the charge out.

"He also mentioned that you tried to blackmail him last week," Donald remarks, smirking at her protest. "He did admit your whole reason, though, and I'm proud of you for following your heart. I'm proud that you followed your heart in all your decisions."

"Even if it broke yours," she asks?

"I love you, my Marianne, my Nessa," he murmurs. "I knew you'd come back, no matter how long it took, and I knew you were safe wherever you got to. Both of our hearts may have been hurting and nearly broken but our heart bond never severs. Time and distance can't damage it."

* * *

"You didn't have to wait up," Marianne chides quietly.

"I had some work that needed to be done," Bog remarks.

"In the living room? I'm quite sure that is what your office is for," Marianne chuckles.

Bog merely grins from his place in his recliner. He couldn't deny that he may have been a little worried. So had everyone else for that matter. They weren't sure what would happen now that Marianne's estranged relatives showed up unexpectedly and her own father winding up in jail. He barely managed to convince them to go to bed and that he would wait for her return alone.

"How's yer da," he asks instead?

"In good humor now that he put Tavers in the infirmary for a few days," she remarks, sitting on the couch. "They only arrested him on suspicion and didn't charge him with anything. However, Dad was told some me-centered stories when they realized that he was my dad. Now I have a bunch of co-workers who will be going on medically-caused holidays when I get my hands on them."

"So, is everything okay between the two ye," Bog questions once his chuckling stops?

"We talked a little when I took him to the hotel I got for him and Sunny," Marianne admits before sighing. "Why did I wait so long? Nine years, Bog! I've been hurting myself and them for so long."

"From what Sunny's narrative suggested before ye left with him, I don't get the feeling that yer da would be scolding ye during yer talk," Bog comments.

"No, he wasn't. In fact, he made me feel like I was that eight-year-old little girl again that he had to rescue from the tree when I climbed up too far," she grins. "He was my hero. So strong and brave. He's actually terrified of heights but he climbed that tree without thinking to rescue me."

"Yer da's terrified of heights," he repeats. "That's not exactly a healthy thing for a construction worker. How's he get any work done?"

"He wasn't always scared," Marianne amends. "Long before I was born, even before he met Mom, Dad was working on the roof of a four-story apartment building and he unhooked his harness from the safety line for a moment and then he slipped. He didn't fall the whole way because Sunny's dad, who had just started working for him, managed to grab his harness belt before he went over the edge. Unfortunately, Eli wasn't able to pull Dad up and they had to stare at the ground four stories below them for nearly half an hour before they were rescued. Since then, Dad only did jobs on the ground or inside the building. It's also what helped motivate him to go into supplies so that he wouldn't have to deal with those kinds of jobs anymore."

"He's a good da. Scared of heights but for his little lass, he climbed a tree and flew across an ocean to come to her rescue," Bog remarks.

"Don't forget that at sixty-nine and seventy-four years of age, Dad also got into a fight with men half his age and sent them both to the infirmary with not a mark on himself," she chuckles. "Dad told me that he is proud of me for following my heart. He told me that he wouldn't lie about his heart breaking when I disappeared but he said that what hurt the most was to discover that I was unhappy and he didn't know it. I've been so scared to disappoint Mom and Dad that I never stopped to realize that they would never be disappointed in me. They've only wanted me to be happy."


	23. Chapter 23

"Are ye sure, dear," Griselda asks in concern? "Beathan and I won't have any trouble if ye wanted to visit yer family today."

"I'm sure. Sunny is going to take Dad on some sightseeing today and Brutus offered to guide them. Or more like he is going to tell my dad some more stories about me," Marianne snorts. "I should have thought of a different guide service than his son-in-law."

"Don't worry. I'm sure Cousin Angus will make his da behave and if he doesn't then Iona will," Bog chuckles. "With her expecting their first bairn, neither man wants to upset the lass for fear of them being kicked out of the house."

"Another Mcgallrigh trait, Marianne, is that all the men choose formidable wives because no one else can satisfy them," Griselda winks.

Marianne laughs at the older woman's persistence and grabs the dishes off the table. She was going to miss this when she went back to her flat tomorrow. It's been nice to have a family again and it'll be a little lonelier since Puck and Plum won't be coming back with her. She didn't regret her decision, though. They would be much happier here and so would both boys.

"Who's taking me to school," Bhaltair questions, reentering the kitchen with his uniform on?

"I am," Bog answers. "I'll be picking ye up as well. Ye didn't forget about yer hearing this afternoon, did ye?"

"No. I'm glad the Justice decided to leave Beathan out of the hearing," Bhatltair remarks.

"Your real testimony helped make that decision," Marianne comments. "You impressed her that you were willing to take responsibility when your mother and her solicitor were trying to get you out of it. She's hard to impress, so just be polite and she might go as easy as the law will allow her to."

"Meaning, park the attitude," Bhaltair quips. "I'll take the punishment the Justice decides for me. I deserve it and I know it. It won't make up for what I've done, though."

Noticing his crestfallen expression, Beathan wheels his chair back from the table and closer to his brother. He lightly punches Bhaltair's side before pulling him down for a hug.

"I'm the only one allowed to feel sorry about my legs," he admonishes. "Like Da and Gran and Marianne keep saying, it's not going to keep me from life as long as I don't let it. Don't let it keep ye from life either, ye bampot."

"I've been an arse to everyone for four years," Bhaltair reminds. "Especially to you and Dad."

"Yeah, ye have but I haven't exactly been a ray of sunshine myself," Beathan remarks, a smirk forming. "Though, if ye want to make it up to me, the gathering is the week after next and I'm not going to be able to join the dances..."

Everyone laughs as Bhaltair jumps away from his brother's embrace like he was on fire. His arms cross in front of him and his blushing red face matches his hair.

"Absolutely, no," Bhaltair exclaims! "I ain't dressing in no kilt. I don't care if I'm half Scottish."

"But ye have bonnie knees, Bhaltair," Griselda croons.

"Gran! I dinnae have bonnie knees," Bhaltair whines before clapping his hands over his mouth!

"Did you just lose your British accent," Marianne asks curiously?

"It happens whenever Bhaltair gets embarrassed enough," Bog chuckles as said teenager runs out of the house. "We'll be home a little late. Don't get into any mischief."

"No promises," the trio chimes!

Watching the pair disappear down the lane through the window, Marianne shakes herself and helps clear the table as Beathan grabs the papers Bhaltair brought home yesterday. She had relented to the teenager's complaints of boredom and let Bog request the teachers to send homework home. The smart teachers, in Marianne's opinion, had sent worksheets from the week before the accident and planned to compare the newer ones to his previously completed ones as a way to gauge his ability to return to his studies. It sure makes it a little less to worry about Beathan overdoing himself.

"Don't forget my warning," Marianne reminds.

"I'll stop if my head starts hurting or if I start getting frustrated," Beathan affirms.

* * *

The sound of a car door makes Marianne exchange looks with Griselda. They weren't expecting anyone for at least another hour and after the events of the past few days, they didn't appreciate any more surprises. Griselda quickly wipes the flour off her hands and heads to the door. The sight of their visitors makes her breathe a sigh of relief and she gives the all clear as she opens the door to let them in.

"Brutus McGee! Ye could have given us some warning to yer visiting," Griselda scolds.

"My apologies, Griselda. We were passing by and thought that ye wouldn't mind some visitors," Brutus explains. "Where's Meri?"

"A little busy right now," Marianne calls out!

Donald chuckles at the sight of a flour-dusted Marianne forming dough into rolls and only laughs more as Sunny hides behind him as the cockatoo sitting on the chair turn it's attention to the newcomers. Plum ruffles her feathers at Marianne's chastisement and pretends to ignore them as the visitors enter the kitchen.

"Never thought that I'd see you being so domestic. You were always too wild to settle down in the kitchen," Donald quips.

"Some things do change a little," Marianne chuckles as Griselda resumes her help. "Did you enjoy your sightseeing?"

"Very much so. The architecture here is delightful," Donald remarks.

"I'm going to have to tell Dawn to bring more film for the camera because I got mine all filled," Sunny laughs.

"Dawn is coming," Marianne questions?

"Yep and so is Annabelle," Sunny confirms.

"They had it all planned by the time you dropped me off at the hotel last night," Donald explains. "Dawn and Mom won't be here for a few more days but they do expect to smother you in hugs when they get here."

"I almost wonder if that accident was a good thing in disguise," Beathan comments, wheeling himself and Puck into the kitchen. "Just like ye seeing that bampot kissing the other woman, the accident brought ye to us, Marianne, and now everything seems to be turning for the better."

"Bampot kissing another woman? What's he talking about, Meri," Brutus asks?

"The reason I left America and came here," Marianne explains, covering the rolled dough with a towel. "Nine years ago, I was supposed to be getting married but when I went searching for my fiance before the ceremony, I found him kissing another woman. That's when I decided to leave because everything felt unreal and I realized that I was unhappy with my life."

"So you did see them," Donald mutters. "Sheryl said that she wasn't sure but she and Roland suspected it when nobody could find you at the wedding venue and then when you disappeared completely."

"In all the commotion last night, I forgot to tell you everything we found out about that sleazeball," Sunny remarks at the confused looks. "I told you about us catching Roland and Donald sending him to the hospital but what I didn't mention is that the woman he was with was Sheryl Mansan."

"As in wife of the owner of Mansan Construction," Marianne questions, getting a nod? "They've been trying to get Dad to sell for years."

"During the court hearing, the judge refused to believe that someone my age could beat up a younger man that badly and walk away unscathed," Donald chuckles, scratching his white beard. "He accused Roland of falsifying his testimony and demanded an investigation into the matter. Turns out, Roland had us all fooled from the beginning. He was paid to infiltrate Zephyr Construction and Supply to manipulate me into selling the company to Fred Mansan at a cheap price. Sheryl had no problem to confessing to everything once she was cornered because she figured they would go easy on her since her only role in the matter was to keep Roland loyal to them."

"The courts didn't go easy on her and charged her as an accomplice," Sunny snickers. "Marrying the owner's daughter would have been the easiest route but then you left, so they figured to try and ruin the company from the inside. Roland's hard work after the canceled wedding turned out to be careful sabotage by embezzlement and his so-called business meetings were him transferring the money to Mansan."

"I can't believe they were that stupid. At least they had enough decency to not think about going after Dawn since she was only fifteen at the time," Marianne comments, raising an eyebrow at the pair of groans. "Don't tell me."

"Sheryl confessed that they planned for Roland to marry Dawn in your place but not until after she graduated school," Donald admits. "They were trying not to go to jail, after all. Apparently, they thought that if Roland married one of my daughters then he would inherit my company and that would make his actions legal. The courts charged all three of them with embezzlement and larceny."

* * *

"I'm telling you the truth," Sunny insists through his laughter!

"Dad, you seriously own a nightclub," Marianne questions incredulously?

"Temporarily," Donald chuckles. "It was just much easy to put everything in my name first since everyone was so worried about two twenty-some-year-olds starting a new club."

"It's not like other kinds of nightclubs, Marianne," Sunny reassures. "It's also open during the day as a cafe but once the sun sets then it's time to boogie as a dance club. We do invite new DJs, singers, and bands to play but a lot of the time, Dawn and I do the entertainment."

"Sunny and Dawn also run Three Little Birds by themselves without interference from me," Donald mentions. "It was decided that once they get married then it'll go into their name."

"So, what's going to happen to yer family company? Ye're not going back are ye, Marianne," Beathan asks worriedly?

"She doesn't have to," Donald interjects, smiling at the teen's sigh of relief. "I don't mind if my girls don't want to take over the family company. In fact, my younger brother and I have been discussing the whole matter for years and we decided that our grandfather's decision for the eldest to take control is ridiculous. My nephew, Hadrian, has been a real help in fixing the mess that Roland has made of things and I've been thinking of handing the company over to him. We were just waiting until you came back, Marianne. I didn't want you to think that you didn't have a say in the matter."

"I don't have any problem with it. I'm just surprised that it's Hadrian," Marianne chuckles. "Didn't Uncle Taylor lament that his youngest son was probably going to grow up to be a supermodel?"

"Hadrian did use to spend too much time in front of the mirror," Donald snickers.

"He does have that great red wavy hair," Sunny comments. "It's all Benjamin and Darren's fault for teasing their little brother at school, anyway. If they didn't do that then the cheerleading squad wouldn't have gushed over Hadrian's looks just to spite the football stars."

Marianne can't keep the smile off her face at remembering all the good times but the smile doesn't last long as her father mentions the other things that have changed. Listening to the exploits of everyone since her disappearance only makes her remember that it was her decision that kept her from experiencing it with them and it also kept them from knowing her life. Placing the raised currant buns into the heated oven, she turns her attention to the aged man that wasn't that old in the majority of her memories of him. They still have things to talk about.

"Come on, Dad. Let's go stretch our legs," Marianne remarks, offering her hand to Donald and motioning toward Griselda's garden.


	24. Chapter 24

"I'm not surprised that you didn't come back home yet. This place does have such a feeling of peace to it," Donald comments. "It sure calmed you down and your Uncle Taylor isn't going to be able to call you his little whirlwind anymore."

Marianne chuckles softly and leans her head against his arm. Donald smiles down at her and pats her arm woven around his before turning his attention back to the large garden they are walking in. There really is such a difference to his daughter after nine years of being away. It's subtle and nearly missable but he could feel it. Their discussion just moments prior confirmed his suspicion.

"Mom and I never meant to make you feel that way, Marianne," he murmurs after a while. "We were so happy to have you, our little miracle, that we wanted you to have the best. We didn't want you to have missed opportunities like we did. A business degree would have been helpful for me and you know that Mom loves helping people. We were too busy looking at our regrets to look at what you needed."

"I don't blame you, Dad. I know that you were only looking out for me," Marianne reassures. "Those degrees and experiences actually came in mighty handy and I don't regret them. I told you, I didn't leave because I wanted to leave but because I wanted to find out who I was. I just got scared to go back. As if everything I found would be lost if I did."

"And what did you find," Donald questions?

"That I'm me and no one else. That is who Marianne Nessa Zephyr is," she remarks. "When I met Griselda for the first time, she gave me the same advice that you always did. Follow my heart because it's got more knowledge than my head and if I understand it correctly then I'll never be led astray. During this whole deal with Bog and the boys, I realized that I've been doing that for everything but where my own family is concerned. It's been so long and truthfully, it wasn't until these past few weeks that I've been longing to reconnect with home. Is that wrong?"

"Maybe not," he comments, getting a surprised look. "Just think about it, sweetheart. Had you come back sooner then the whole Roland fiasco might not have been found out. It was only four years ago that he was caught in his crime, after all. Do you remember what I used to tell you about the heart bond?"

"That it is like a stone wall," Marianne answers, pointing to the stone wall surrounding the property. "As each individual stone is bonded to the other through the mortar, so is each individual person bonded to others by the heart."

"Correct. Our hearts are connected to those closest to us in ways that we can't even begin to understand," Donald explains. "It is even connected to those that we will be close to that we haven't even met yet. You told your boss that you are drawn to Scotland and to Bog and his sons. Maybe you need to stop worrying so much about things that needed to take place in the past and do what your heart is telling you now. Your heart knows what you are doing better than you do, so trust it."

Donald grins as Marianne's attention shifts back toward the house just as a tall man exits through the patio door. Even from this distance, he can see his resemblance to Beathan and knows that this is the mysterious Bog. 'This is the one that has my daughter's heart,' he muses, noticing her loving gaze toward the man. He chuckles when Marianne's soft smile turns into a scowl as Bog waves a hot currant bun before biting into it.

"Bogart," Marianne growls loudly!

* * *

"You can't be angry at Dad forever, Marianne," Bhaltair snickers. "It's hard not to steal your pastries."

"He can learn to be more patient and at least wait for them to cool a little," Marianne huffs, spreading the apricot glaze over the warm pastries. "You didn't even let me put the glaze on it."

"I'm not sorry," Bog comments, kissing her cheek. "They're delicious and I refuse to believe that ye've never made them before."

Marianne can't hold back her chuckling as Bog wraps his arms around her front to lay on her stomach while he rests his head on her shoulder. Noticing the very interested gazes of the other humans in the kitchen, especially Brutus' amused smile, she gives him a low warning to behave and hands him a glazed currant bun. Marianne turns her attention to passing out the currant buns and ignores Bog as he keeps his clinging position except for one hand.

"How did the hearing go, Bhaltair," Marianne asks?

"I got charged with dangerous driving, so I lost my license and I got a large fine to pay off," Bhaltair answers. "The Justice did say that since I was being compliant then I don't have to serve any jail time because I proved to her that I'll be responsible for my own irresponsibility."

"She also told Basil that Beathan will not be called into court," Bog mentions. "Bhaltair's true admittance to the events was clear that Beathan's slight use of the cell phone was not responsible for the accident and therefore Beathan will not be charged in any form."

"I know ye don't want me to be pessimistic but keeping my license isn't going to do me any good since I can't drive now," Beathan comments, buttering his currant bun.

"You can still drive," Marianne remarks, getting a skeptical look from Beathan. "I'm serious. Losing your legs can't stop you from pursuing what you want, you'll just have to go about it a different way than you normally would have. You can learn to drive with the prosthetics or you can learn to drive with just your hands. Most vehicles can be modified for either option. You can even drive a motorcycle if you want to."

"He doesn't want to," Griselda grouses.

"We know, Gran," the twins chime.

"No motorcycles, huh," Donald questions?

"I have no problem with them," Griselda defends. "My lads, however, are not allowed on those speed demons. I have enough trouble dealing with my lads' antics and I don't need any more gray hair."

"It's Da's fault," Beathan snickers, ignoring his father's motions to be quiet. "One of the Italian cousins came to the gathering on a brand new motorcycle when Da was a teenager and he allowed all the lads to have a turn which turned into a contest."

"Dad lost control of the motorcycle during his turn, then he got thrown off of it and into the loch," Bhaltair continues. "Since then, the keeper confiscates all vehicle keys during the gathering."

"So, that's where Bhaltair got his speeding from," Marianne mutters, looking at the sheepish Bog.

"What's the gathering," Sunny asks?

"It's a family gathering," Bog explains. "The Mcgallrigh clan is very closely-knitted and we keep in touch even to those far away. Each year from June twenty-first to the twenty-seventh, all Mcgallrigh relations go back to our true home to reconnect with everyone. All the relations on this side of the world head to Coille Dorcha here in Scotland, our ancestral home, but there is a Coille Dorcha in America that was founded by the first Mcgallrigh to immigrate there and those on that side of the world head there."

"I thought the Mcgallrigh name sounded familiar," Donald remarks. "The groundskeeper at the Coille Dorcha in America is named Bruce Mcgallrigh."

"Bruce stopped being the keeper about six years ago," Griselda corrects. "The poor man couldn't bear to marry again after his wife died in childbirth, so he asked his elder twin brother's son to be the keeper in the absence of his own child. Finley Mcgallrigh is the new keeper."

"So, ye've been to Coille Dorcha then," Beathan questions?

"Coille Dorcha is somewhat responsible for all this," Marianne chuckles, laughing harder at all the Scots' confused expressions. "Remember what I said about the Scottish theme at the wedding venue is what gave me the idea to travel the world starting in Scotland? A coworker at the infirmary I was working at had a sister who had just gotten married and he was showing off the pictures of the wedding venue. I thought it was so beautiful that I contacted them immediately about my own wedding to be held there five months later at Coille Dorcha Castle."

Silence reigns through the kitchen for several minutes as the five Scots process this information. Bog breaks the silence as laughter tumbles out of his mouth and he hugs Marianne tightly against him.

"Jason was right, after all," Brutus remarks. "Gallrigh did call for ye, Meri."

* * *

"Are ye...," Griselda starts?

"I'm sure," Marianne interrupts, pulling a baking dish out of the oven. "Dad and Sunny will be here for several more days before they return home and I'll have dinner with them some other time. Besides, Brutus had already promised to take them to an authentic Scottish restaurant to complete his sightseeing tour."

"I just don't want ye to regret not spending time with them because ye made a promise to me to help us out," Griselda comments.

"Don't worry so much," Marianne chides softly. "I'll be spending a lot of time with them before they go home. So much so that I probably won't get a moment to rest once Mom and Dawn get here. Then even after they go home, I'll be keeping in touch with them from now on. So, don't worry, okay. Now, boys, dinnertime!"

Even if it wasn't a peaceful meal, it would be hard for Marianne to not notice the significant looks between the twins. She catches the slight gesture towards Griselda, a clear indication that the elderly woman is somehow involved in this newest scheme, and Marianne tries to stifle her chuckles with another bite of baked salmon. 'Now, what are they plotting this time,' she questions silently?

"Alright, what are ye lot up to now," Bog asks?

"Up to," Griselda repeats innocently? "Whatever do ye mean, dear?"

"Don't play innocent, Maw, it doesn't suit ye," Bog remarks.

"We've just been thinking, that's all," Beathan comments.

"About what," Bog questions, abandoning his dinner to give them his full attention?

"About how nice it is to have you around, Marianne, and how unhappy we'll all be when you go back to your flat tomorrow," Bhaltair answers.

"Sure, ye'll be coming to visit us but on top of yer work schedule it'll be a lot to ask to have ye travel the whole way here and then go home with your flat located on the opposite side of town," Griselda remarks to Marianne. "It just makes more sense for ye to stay here."

"And where would I stay? I'm staying in Bhaltair's room," Marianne points out. "I'm not going to stay if it means that he won't get his room back."

"There is one other room," Beathan mentions, looking pointedly toward Bog. "Da's home office."

"Now just wait a...," Marianne starts.

"Actually, they got a point," Bog interrupts. "My home office was originally a fifth bedroom but I converted it after the lads were born so I could keep a better eye on Beathan and not have to take him outside during bad weather. If ye want to stay, Marianne, then it would be no problem."

"But where will you put your stuff," Marianne asks, ignoring the smug grins from the matchmaking trio?

"Oh that's easy," Griselda comments. "I'm sure ye noticed the building beside the house. Most people assume it's a shed but when Lachlan built this house when we got engaged, he built that to be his home office. Bog still uses it himself and only keeps his most needed files in here."

"Come on, Marianne," Bog murmurs shyly. "What do ye say?"


	25. Chapter 25

Bog chuckles softly as he sets down the box he's carrying. It feels so freeing to no longer be worried about the mistakes that he made in the past and to have a real hope for the future instead of living in the constant terror of what if. The best feeling, however, is remembering what it's like to be in love. 'Or is it even remembering? This sure feels different than when I thought that I was in love with Angelina,' he muses.

Thinking of his once-love brings a bit of discomfort to him but not even the thought of her actions can weigh him down for long. He's sure that everything will be alright. Marianne definitely seems to think so and as Bhaltair sets down the box he's carrying, Bog can't find a reason not to believe her. The lanky teenager wipes his hands onto his pants before grinning up at his father.

"That's the last box," Bhaltair announces. "I'm glad that Marianne is staying. I've only been around her for a few days but I think she makes a better mother than Mum."

"Me too," Bog agrees. "But your maw is still your maw."

"I know," the teenager sighs. "Marianne told me the same thing on Monday but it's just hard, Dad. I grew up knowing that Mum didn't really want me and that she only took care of me because she had to. She made no secret of it, telling me constantly how much she had to sacrifice just for me. Every time I came to your house I had hoped that one day that you would ask me to stay with you and Gran and with Beathan. But you never did and I started to wonder if you only let me visit because you had to, too. When Mum gave me her version of the truth, I thought that if I treated you like she treated you then she would finally accept me but she didn't."

"I'm so sorry, lad," Bog murmurs. "Yer Gran has complained a great deal about me not talking enough about things and maybe if I did then none of this would have gotten this bad. There isn't any excuse to give ye, only the truth, and the truth is that I thought that this was for the best. I never wanted to make ye feel that I didn't want ye because I wanted ye with all my heart. Ye are my lad, Bhaltair, and I love ye just as much as I love yer brother. I love ye both more than my own life and I thought that yer maw loved ye just as much. I didn't know that she treated ye like that."

"I don't blame you for not knowing about Mum's attitude since she always acted the loving mother part around everyone and I could've said something but I didn't," Bhaltair comments. "All of us kept silent about things that we probably should have talked about. We are both at fault for not talking about the important things. Beathan and I talked a lot about what you told us on Sunday. We...I can understand your reasons for not telling us, I mean, we were just kids and had no business knowing stuff like that."

"But ye grew up and I should have acknowledged that," Bog mutters. "I was terrified of what the two of ye would say and do once ye found out the truth, so I kept putting off telling ye. Although, I did tell yer Gran that if I didn't manage to tell ye before ye both graduated secondary school then she was to force us all to talk on the day of yer graduation."

"You gave Gran permission to hold us hostage? What were you thinking," Bhaltair questions, mischief sparkling in his blue eyes?

Bog laughs and shakes his head before pushing the cheeky teenager back towards the house. It's kind of strange to have this easygoingness with his eldest son after so many years of tension between the two of them but he definitely enjoys it. It gives him the hope that everything will be alright after all.

"Are you coming, Dad? We still got to get your desk and filing cabinets out here," Bhaltair calls back.

"Everything will be alright," Bog mutters to the evening sky before joining his son.

* * *

"I will be paying rent," Marianne insists before drinking from her mug.

"Ye already heard Maw and she's had more years at being stubborn than ye," Bog chuckles.

"It's your house," Marianne points out.

"And Maw is its mistress," he counters. "It was built for her, after all."

"Built for her? Didn't your dad also build it for himself," she chuckles?

"Actually, no," Bog responds, laughing at her shocked expression. "Before they got married, Da lived in Coille Dorcha but Maw was uneasy about moving that far away from her sisters, so he bought this piece of land and built the house for her. He didn't even tell her about it until after it was finished, so she had been getting ready to move to Coille Dorcha when Da surprised her by bringing her here a few weeks before the official wedding."

"People actually live in Coille Dorcha here in Scotland? I thought it was like its American counterpart and was more of a nature park with only the groundskeepers living there," Marianne comments.

"The American Coille Dorcha is smaller than the one here and although we do limit the amount of modernization that is done on Coille Dorcha lands, it is inhabited by farms and the village of Coille Dorcha," he explains. "However, no one lives in Caisteal Coille Dorcha expect the keeper, presently Archibald Mcgallrigh, and his immediate family. I'll make sure to give ye the full tour when we head up there next week with yer family. Ye do know how to ride a horse, right?"

"I've never ridden a horse before," she admits.

"No problem, ye can ride with me," Bog offers, chuckling as Marianne blushes at his wink. "I'd take ye up tomorrow but since it is yer last day off and we need to move yer things here, it'll be too late by the time we're done. Although, we can go up on yer next day off and have Angus bring yer family up later."

"I think Dad would actually kill me if I went there without taking him along too," Marianne remarks. "Hard to believe that my grown father actually pouted when Sunny told him that they shouldn't go visit before Mom and Dawn arrived...well, not that hard to believe. He loves old architecture and once Griselda showed him a picture of Caisteal Coille Dorcha, that was it."

Bog echos her laughter at the reminder of Donald's enthusiasm and subsequent disappointment after everyone's laughter had settled down about the Mcgallrigh's involvement with Marianne's failed wedding. The elderly man was enthralled with the picture and had immediately wanted to see it in person, only to be foiled by Sunny.

"Hopefully, Donald won't be too disappointed when he finds out that Caisteal Coille Dorcha was rebuilt fairly recently," he comments. "It was after WWII that the skeleton of the original castle became despised because it represented defeat and every relation that could, answered the call to rebuild. They rebuilt it the old-fashioned way and used whatever stones that were still useable from the original castle but a lot of it is new stone."

"Trust me, he won't be disappointed at all," she reassures. "In fact, I'm beginning to wonder if he can ever be disappointed. It's something I wish I believed earlier because it sure would have saved us so much time. I know he says that it's alright but..."

"I know the feeling," Bog mentions at her rough sigh. "We both have some things that we regret about our actions in the past but didn't ye tell me that there is no point worrying about that and that what's done is done and ye can't change it."

"No fair using my own advice against me," Marianne complains. "Besides, this is somewhat different since I was doing this for my own selfish sake."

"I'm a father, Marianne, just like yer father and I don't think Donald feels any different about ye than I do for my own lads," he remarks. "Bhaltair and I talked a bit while we were coming home after the hearing and he told me some of the things that he told ye, including that he was planning on leaving after his graduation. I know it would have broken my heart to see my lad gone but I know just as surely, that the day that he would come back would be the happiest day of my life. I've already experienced something like that for the past four years and though Bhaltair is regretful of his past attitude, I don't even care about all of that anymore because now we can create new memories to replace the missing ones. Just like ye can now create new memories with yer family."

Marianne hums to his comment before taking another sip from her drink. She understood where Bog and her dad were coming from but it was just hard to forgive herself. For nine years she had stuffed her family in the back of her mind without any more than a slight thought toward them or even caring how they were all doing.

She didn't know that her sister nearly married her ex-fiance or that said ex-fiance was a complete jerk. She wasn't there when Sunny surprised Dawn with a singing proposal at the grand opening of Three Little Birds two and a half years ago. She may have been there for two of her cousins' weddings but she wasn't there for the birth of their children or for the weddings of her other four cousins. She didn't know about Aunt Linda's passing two years ago or that Uncle Taylor, who had sworn to remain widowed since his wife's death twenty years ago, is now in a relationship that his three sons are encouraging.

She had shut them out of her life for nine years and the only reason they're reconnecting now is because of someone else's involvement. She didn't even have the courage or desire to reconnect with them herself. How could she forgive herself?

"You helped us out to deal with our family troubles but now you're having trouble when it comes to dealing with your own family troubles. That's a bad example, you know," Bhaltair comments.

"Nurses make bad patients," Marianne chuckles, looking toward the teenager leaning out of the patio door. "Shouldn't you be going to sleep? You do have school tomorrow."

"Beathan asked me to get his pain meds," Bhaltair explains.

"Is something wrong," Bog asks, starting to push up from his chair?

"He said that his legs are hurting a little but we can deal with it," Bhaltair reassures hastily. "Continue your date."

"Date? You're pushing your luck, kid," Marianne scolds between her laughter. "Not to mention, you're taking after your grandmother. You're beginning to see romance in everything."

"I'm hardly wrong," Bhaltair quips.


	26. Chapter 26

"Come on! I'm tired of being stuck in the house," Beathan complains. "I'll stay out of the way."

"Beathan, I'm not sure that it is a good idea," Marianne repeats. "You've only been out of the infirmary for less than a week."

"But this way Gran can help ye pack and get the job done quicker since she won't have to worry about looking after me," Beathan explains. "Cousin Alistair has the day off, so I can stay with him while ye're busy. It'll also make it easier for Da, too. He can pick me up there for therapy when he drops Bhaltair off after school instead of having to come the whole way back here. It's perfect!"

"Maybe," Marianne concedes reluctantly.

Marianne didn't know what it was but something felt off about today. She had the strangest feeling ever since she woke up but she knows for sure that it isn't moving jitters. It definitely makes making breakfast a bit hard when she keeps looking around for something that isn't there and Beathan's suggestion of coming with her to her old flat is only making the feeling grow stronger. She almost felt ready to call off the moving in an effort to quail the anxiety.

"If ye're not sure about moving in here then it's fine," Bog murmurs lowly as he hands her the bowls.

"It's not that," Marianne whispers back, filling the bowls with porridge. "I don't know what's wrong but something doesn't feel right about today."

"I was hoping that I was the only one that felt that way," Bog mutters.

The pair exchange worried looks before shaking it away to take the filled bowls back to the waiting teens. Marianne catches Griselda's own amber eyes and it's clear that the elderly woman has the same feeling coursing through her being. One look toward the starving teens, however, show their obliviousness to the matter and the adults silently agree to avoid bringing it up.

"I agree with Beathan, Marianne," Griselda comments. "If we come with ye then we can get everything at least packed up before lunch and maybe ye can take a small load in yer car back here before Jason arrives with his truck after lunch. It would make the moving go much faster and the sooner that it is done then the sooner we can all get back home."

* * *

Marianne groans as she seals another box and places it among the others waiting to be taken downstairs. She is definitely grateful for Griselda's help or she may not have gotten everything packed as quick. Though her anxiety hasn't lessened that much and she keeps checking for anything suspicious, she is sure that they will probably be nearly done by the time Bog drops Bhaltair off. First, though, they have to get all these boxes down two flights of stairs. The thought makes her groan again.

"How do I have this much stuff? I only have a studio flat," Marianne comments.

"Ye never realize how much stuff ye own until ye have to move it all," Griselda chuckles, sealing her own box. "Well, at least that is the last box. I say that we take an early lunch break with the lads and relax a bit before Jason arrives."

"Good idea," Marianne remarks. "I'll call Dad and see if he and Sunny want to join us for lunch. Maybe having more people around will make this feeling go away."

"One can hope, dear," Griselda murmurs. "I'm just glad the Alastair agreed to keep Beathan occupied in his flat. I don't want him to get worried about something we're not even sure about."

"One thing I am sure about it is that it has something to do with right here," Marianne mentions quietly.

Griselda gives her agreement as she follows Marianne down to her nephew's flat. She could only hope that they'll be prepared for whatever is bothering them. If only the town hall's roof didn't start leaking heavily last night then Bog would have been able to help them. At least the council was smart enough not to hire the same idiots who just installed the roof a month ago but it was definitely inconvenient timing when they called moments after everyone woke up. Her anxiety is chased away momentarily at the gleeful cackling emanating from behind Alastair's closed door. 'Alastair should have known better than to challenge Beathan to a game of Battleship,' she chuckles.

* * *

"Is this the last of it, Meri," Jason asks, packing the box he's carrying into his truck?

"Nope. Everything is mine except the fridge, cooking stove, and the microwave," Marianne informs.

"Everything? I thought ye rented yer flats mostly furnished, Alastair," Jason comments.

"I do but when Marianne got the cockatoos she was worried about the damages they would cause," Alastair explains, putting his own box into Marianne's car. "So, she went and bought her own furniture and had me remove the ones that I owned. It was good timing actually because I needed to replace the furniture in another flat and those ones were still in good condition."

"It'll save a lot of time if we bring the furniture down while you two drop the boxes off at the house," Sunny remarks.

"We," Marianne questions suspiciously?

"Don't worry, dear," Griselda chuckles, exiting the building with Beathan. "Donald and I will both be good elderly folk and not lift a thing. Bog should be here soon with Bhaltair. Jason arrived a little late, remember?"

"I had a bonnie date. No work and no kids is such bliss," Jason sighs dreamily. "Ye appreciate the quiet times after a few years of marriage, Meri."

"I'd appreciate the quiet times right now," Marianne mutters dryly. "You all know that Bog and I are not going to get serious for a few more months. Not until after every connection that Angelina has with him is completely finished and that won't be until after Beathan graduates secondary school."

"So ye say but I'm wagering that ye'll be rid of the wench sooner," Jason comments, smirking as he hops into his truck. "I'll see ye at Bog's house."

Marianne resists the urge to throw a rock at the leaving vehicle. Jason knows something and instead of keeping his mouth shut, he keeps giving vague hints. He had avoided answering everyone's questions about Tavers' hearing that took place yesterday. In fact, he avoided answering any questions. 'Maybe I can corner him at the house,' she plots.

Catching sight of Bog's car pulling into the parking lot, Marianne pauses before getting in her own car. A few more minutes won't hurt. Especially when Bog gives her a kiss when he exits his vehicle after parking next to her. She ignores Sunny's snickering as he follows Alastair back into the building, already knowing that he'll probably take a detour back to Alastair's flat to tell her dad the juicy gossip. She also ignores the matchmaking trio's smug looks.

"Did you get everything done already," Bhaltair asks?

"Not yet. Jason arrived a little late and we were enjoying lunch too much to notice the time," Griselda explains. "All the boxes are done and ye get to help Sunny and Alastair bring down the furniture. Go ahead and change out of yer uniform then ye can get started."

"Don't worry. It's only a bed, a chest of drawers, an armoire, a recliner, and two tables. We emptied everything, so it won't be too heavy," Marianne reassures at the teenager's groan. "Just be careful when you're moving the bed frame. Puck has a tendency to chew one of its legs and I haven't replaced that leg just yet."

Marianne laughs at the twins' echoed comment of the dafty bird and turns her attention back to Bog but some movement from the corner of her eye catches her attention instead. That definitely explains her anxiety.

"Bhaltair, get Beathan inside," she orders quietly. "Now!"

Bog follows Marianne's line of sight and groans at the sight of a dark brown haired woman walking closer. It only takes a moment for him to lose his exasperation and realize that something is off about her stride. He quickly checks his sons' positions and silently curses at Beathan's distance from the building and his brother. Exchanging a quick glance with Marianne, Bog moves to intercept Angelina's path to the twins.

"What are ye doing here, Angelina," Bog questions calmly?

"What am I doing here? I knew you were a prat since I met you, so don't bother lying to me. You know what I'm doing here, Bogart," Angelina growls. "How dare you do this to me!"

"Do what? I honestly haven't a clue what ye're talking about," Bog remarks.

Ice flows through everyone's veins as Angelina draws a small handgun from her coat pocket and points it toward them. Her green eyes are too wide and show a hint of madness while her hand deftly holds the weapon toward each of their frozen forms.

Bhaltair stares in horror at his mother before trying to edge closer toward Beathan while her attention is on his dad. He didn't know what is going on but he knows he needs to follow Marianne's orders and get his brother inside.

Beathan carefully starts to wheel his chair backward but both boys freeze as Angelina catches his movements and points the gun directly toward him.

"Why didn't you die? You were supposed to die," Angelina insists, malice dripping with every word! "Everything would have been fine. It was all perfect until you ruined everything. You're completely useless!"

Molten heat of rage rushes through Marianne as tears flow from Beathan's liquid blue eyes and his form shakes with slight tremors. She hated this woman before but now she wants to strangle her and from Bog's thunderous expression, he shares her opinion. Marianne stares intently at Angelina in an effort to gauge an opening but her eyes widen as the finger on the gun's trigger starts to curl. 'Beathan,' she screams silently!

The deafening bang echoes off the nearby buildings and screams accompany the shot as approaching pedestrians run for cover with crying children. Bog can only watch as his youngest son's eyes fill with more tears while his eldest son's knees tremble with the effort to keep standing and Griselda covers her mouth in disbelief at the scene in front of her.

"Marianne," Beathan whimpers, holding a bloody hand against Marianne's shoulder.

"Bhaltair, get inside with Beathan," Marianne orders through gritted teeth.

Paying no attention to the onlookers, Marianne forces her pained body away from Beathan and charges the shocked Angelina with a roar. Odd that she could find a reason to laugh at a moment like this but she muses that she definitely deserves the police brutality this time as she grabs Angelina's right hand with one hand, forcing the gun to drop, and punches hard against her inner elbow with the other. Angelina's scream of pain from the resulting crack is cut short as Marianne slams her knee into the other woman's stomach.

Letting the now unconscious woman fall to the ground, Marianne scans the area as her adrenaline starts fading and takes note of the gathering crowd. The absence of the twins gives her relief despite the pain now flooding through her and she catches Bog's worried eyes. She gives him a smirk just before everything goes black.

"Marianne!"


	27. Chapter 27

Laughter fills the air as Puck and Plum join the bagpipes with their own rendition of 'Scotland the Brave'. The lead piper valiantly tries to ignore them but a misplayed note only causes more laughter to ring out through the castle courtyard.

"Hush, ye dafty things, or ye going to make Cousin Archibald miss his notes," Beathan scolds between laughter.

"I think that's what they're trying to do," Bhaltair chuckles.

Bog smiles at the scene from his place on the tower before sighing and turning his attention back toward the loch. The dark waters gleam with the sun's rays as the summer breeze causes the water to lap onto the shores. It's almost surreal to have such peace after the chaos his life has been.

For nineteen years, he's kept a secret from everyone, including his family, and now his secret is exposed for everyone to know. For four years, he's had to deal with the disdain of his eldest son and no idea how to fix it. Just last month, he nearly lost his youngest son, first to the accident and then to the hatred that settled into the boy's heart. Two weeks ago, everything started to mend and it looked like he was going to finally be free. Then one bullet happened and in just a week, his entire life seemed to shatter.

Bog grits his teeth and closes his eyes as that dreadful scene plays itself out in his mind once more. He'd never be able to rid himself of that cursed moment no matter how long he lived. Even worse, he might never get real answers for why it happened.

How could she say such things to Beathan? How could she turn that gun on her own sons? How could she pull that trigger? How could he just stand there and let her do it?

He chokes down a sob as Marianne's bloody and unconscious figure drops to the ground in his memory and he clenches his first at the remembrance of her blood upon them as he rushed to her. He didn't even let anyone clean it up when the medics arrived. It must have bothered Donald to see his daughter's blood but the elder man had said nothing as Bog had driven the two of them to the infirmary.

The waiting was the hardest. Waiting as the doctors made sure Beathan was okay, waiting as the doctors tried to save Marianne, waiting for his own heart to start beating again. Still waiting as Jason arrived after hearing the news and even hours later when Alistair arrived to give back the keys to Jason's truck.

No, the hardest part was when he had to drive away from the infirmary with only Beathan. That was the hardest. The week that followed with the police questionings, the nosey reporters, and the hearings at the High Court wasn't as hard as leaving without Marianne.

Bog grunts as a sharp rap on his side distract his thoughts and he raises his eyebrow toward the shorter figure beside him.

"Ye should be down with the others and enjoying the gathering, not brooding," Griselda scolds.

"I'm not brooding," Bog denies. "I just wanted to get away for a moment."

"Ye are brooding. Worrying yerself into a tizzy isn't going to change things and ye know it," Griselda argues.

"It's a lot to take in, Maw, and I'm just trying to understand it all," Bog sighs.

"What is there to understand? It was all perfectly clear once everything was known," Griselda states. "Even the lads have decided to leave the matter be and they're just as affected by all of it as ye are."

"I've lived with this hanging over my head for nineteen years," Bog remarks, returning his attention to the loch. "It's not so easy to just lay it aside now that I know the whole truth. Even worse, that I dragged Marianne into this mess and now she is..."

"I'm fine," Marianne interrupts, walking toward the pair. "And I'd still do the same thing all over again if I need to. Don't make me lecture you again because you know I will."

Bog chuckles lightly as Marianne pushes against him with her right hand and forces herself between him and the wall. The persistent woman sighs in content as she leans her back against his chest and he gingerly wraps his arms around her waist, being careful not to jostle the sling her left arm is in.

"Ye shouldn't have climbed the whole way up here, Marianne," Bog murmurs. "Ye're supposed to be taking it easy."

"I'm not going to break, Bog," Marianne chides.

"Ye almost did," Bog mutters.

"It's gonna take a lot more than one measly bullet to stop me," Marianne remarks.

"Didn't ye just tell Beathan a week ago that all bullet wounds are tricky and dangerous when he asked how bad the injury truly was," Bog questions?

"I was drugged," Marianne mumbles.

"Oh? Then let me remind ye, tough lass," Bog comments. "Ye said that no two bullet injuries are the same and that despite the several factors in yer favor, there is still a chance that ye may never be able to have full mobility in yer left arm again. One measly bullet can stop ye and it nearly did. It was only a miracle that the bullet missed yer bones and main arteries when it entered beside yer shoulderblade and a double miracle that it curved upwards to cleanly exit near the collarbone."

"Ye also developed a fever when they kept ye overnight for observation," Griselda points out. "I agree with Bog. Ye should take it easy a little while longer."

"That wasn't from the wound itself," Marianne argues. "It's healing nicely, so don't worry. I'm not stupid enough to make my injury worse by aggravating it by doing something I shouldn't do."

"Like when ye ignored yer injury to attack Angelina," Bog reminds. "The doctors said that was probably what made ye go into shock."

"I had to stop her from hurting anyone else. Besides, I told you that I'd give her a long-term stay in the infirmary the next time I saw her," Marianne cackles. "She won't be losing that cast for months and it didn't look like the heavy bruising on her stomach was any better if the way she winced at the hearings was any indication. Now, enough about that. What's bothering you?"

"A lot of things. For starters, everyone has been talking about the events and it's hard to answer while I still feel terrible about not doing anything when my lads were in danger," Bog admits. "I just stood there, frozen, while Angelina almost killed Beathan and she would have no doubt turned the gun on Bhaltair as well. Some father I am. If it wasn't for ye, Marianne, my lads would be dead."

"And if it wasn't for you, I would be dead," Marianne comments. "Or did you forget that you stemmed the bleeding after I went into shock and kept me from losing too much blood? I'm trained to think and react fast during intense situations, you're not. Didn't you pay attention to anything I've said to Bhaltair and Beathan?"

"That doesn't apply to me," Bog argues. "Neither lad should feel guilty about anything concerning this whole mess but I'm supposed to keep them safe and I've done a lousy job of it."

"Ye're talking heavy shite," Griselda growls, ignoring her son's shocked look. "Ye're a great father and ye've proved that all these years when ye always did what ye thought was best for the lads. Sure, ye could have done some things differently but at least ye tried. Ye didn't have to take responsibility for them when they were bairns. Ye could have even refused to believe Angelina's claim about yer behavior or ye could have paid for the abortion and just avoided most of this mess. Even now, now that the whole truth is out, ye're still trying yer best. It's all anyone can ask of a man, my lad."

Bog sighs and lays his head against Marianne's head. It's not that he wants to disagree with them but it feels cowardly to just take the easy way out and say that none of this was his fault. Surely, he could have done something to prevent all of this.

Everything was easy to understand before the accident. It was simply all his fault. Then the accident happened but it was still his fault. Now, to find out the whole truth...it almost made him want to get a drink, that is if he didn't swear off alcohol since the party.

"You don't blame the boys, do you," Marianne asks?

"Of course not! It's not their fault what their mother did," Bog growls.

"It's also not your fault what Angelina did," Marianne remarks, covering his mouth with her right hand. "You didn't even realize that you were roofied and that dumb woman had handed you the proof of her crime."

"Are ye calling me a huddy," Bog mumbles into her fingers?

"I'm calling her stupid, not you," Marianne corrects. "I'm just saying that you never suspected her being capable of what she did and therefore had no way of preventing anything that happened. That means that everything is Angelina's own fault for going along with this whole scheme. She's even more responsible than the other two since she was the only one to continue this whole farce when Sheriff Wicker died four years ago."

"I knew that there was something off about that man when he ruled what he did but never could I have imagined that he was the instigator to all of this," Griselda comments. "I don't envy the ones that have to review all of Sheriff Wicker's dealings now that his corruption has been revealed. It's just unfortunate that he passed away without being punished for his actions."

"Considering the unnatural way he died, I don't think he passed away without his crimes being brought to his remembrance," Jason states from the stairway. "Maybe Angelina was spared so as to make atonement but instead she made the crime her own when she filled Bhaltair with such hatred. Then came our dear wee Meri to expose the wench and also to play the part of the avenger, breaking Angelina's elbow while dislocating every joint in her right arm and also heavily bruising her abdomen and stomach."

"What are ye doing up here? Shouldn't ye be dancing with yer wife," Bog questions?

"Bhaltair and Beathan are wondering where ye lot have gotten off to and I volunteered to search for ye," Jason comments. "I figured that I'd find ye here since this is yer usual brooding spot."

"I'm not brooding," Bog growls!

"Aye, ye are," Jason argues. "I know that it might be hard to settle everything in yer mind since the hearing was only a few days ago but yer not doing yerself any good by letting it ruin a good time. If ye still want to blame yerself for not seeing anything suspicious about this whole ordeal then that means that I can blame myself as well. After all, I didn't see anything suspicious myself when Meri handed me that photo and I'm trained to be suspicious about everything. If Meri hadn't of insisted that there was something there for me to find then I wouldn't have noticed that all the party punch was red but the liquid in yer cup was light purple, a clear sign of roofie. Then there was last Thursday when I should have warned everyone to keep alert or even told Meri not to move until after Angelina was arrested. I should have said something."

"I told ye in the infirmary that I don't blame ye," Bog murmurs. "Angelina shouldn't have been able to avoid the arresting officers and nobody could have known that she would have done what she did."

"See! Ye can't blame yerself, cousin. Now let's get back to partying," Jason orders. "It's time to show Meri how great the Mcgallrighs are and convince her to join the clan."


	28. Chapter 28

"I should be mad at you," Marianne chuckles. "You told me that the Mcgallrighs are a closely-knitted clan but you didn't tell me how large a clan you are or about how many of you are closely related. I was expecting that I'd be dealing with your distant cousins, not your father's eight siblings' kids."

"Now ye know why Da built the house with five bedrooms. Because Mcgallrighs have big families," Bog remarks. "It's only the first day of the gathering, so ye haven't met everybody yet but even once school lets out for the year, ye might not see the whole clan together."

"I thought you said that all the Mcgallrigh relations head to Coille Dorcha for the gathering," she comments.

"We do but sometimes not every single member can make it, for various reasons. War is the biggest problem we've had to face since the founding of the gathering but distance is nearly as big as a problem," he explains. "Usually, at least one member of an individual family tries to make it and they represent their members that can't make it. But even if a relation can't make it to the gathering, they at least try to come back to either Coille Dorcha once a year for one of the other family get-togethers."

"Which your mother, your sons, and your cousins gladly told me what that consists of," Marianne remarks, grinning at his groan. "There were especially enthusiastic about telling me about how every Mcgallrigh relation gets married at either one of the Coille Dorchas."

"Maybe I should have given ye a thorough lesson on the Mcgallrighs when I invited ye to the gathering," Bog murmurs before sighing roughly and brushing a hand through his black hair. "I was planning to the next day, after ye finished moving in, but with everything that happened, I never got around to telling ye. Truth be told, I was worried that ye...well, that ye might have given up on me after what Angelina had done."

Bog grunts as Marianne's right fist lightly hits his shoulder and her amber eyes crackle with fire from her glare at him over her shoulder. He grins sheepishly at the threat from her look and pulls her tighter against him, returning his attention to the falling rain outside the patio door.

"I know, I know, ye ain't letting some spiteful woman scare ye away," he quips. "It's just that I wasn't sure if ye thought that I was worth it, especially once the whole truth came out. All these years I've been a heavy dunderheid."

"What makes you think that you're a great idiot? Just because you've made some mistakes doesn't mean you've messed up," she comments, moving her right hand to his neck and pulling his head down on top of hers.

"I should have done something," Bog mutters into her hair. "Anything! But I didn't and my lads went through so much pain that I could've prevented, that I should've prevented. I'm their da."

He accepts her pulling and easily captures her lips into a heated kiss, reluctantly pulling away because of the strain he knows it's placing on her healing injury. Her growl makes him chuckle before outright laughing at her squeak when he picks her up bridal-style with her right side against his chest and walks over to sit in his recliner. He eagerly returns to kissing the fiery woman in his lap and his own growl sounds forth as she pulls back.

"Now that you're not feeling poorly," Marianne smirks. "Let's review the facts and maybe get through that thick skull of yours that you are an amazing man."

Bog can only blush as she settles more comfortably onto his lap. It doesn't matter how much closer they've gotten in the past week, it still feels new and incredible that this is happening to him.

"You were eighteen when this all started. Eighteen! Just like Bhaltair and Beathan is now," she points out. "Angelina knew Sheriff Wicker because of his sister-in-law's affair with her father. Sheriff Wicker knew of your dad's wealth and he also knew about your feelings for Angelina, who in turn had feelings for his ward, Albert. There was no way you could have known that Sheriff Wicker instructed Angelina to get close to you and then to invite you to the party that Albert was hosting. There was no way you could have realized that you were drinking that roofied drink when they didn't even give it to you until after you were too tipsy to see or taste the difference. Nor could you have prevented their sick actions when they...stole your sperm."

"That's a tasteful way of putting it," Bog murmurs. "For so long I couldn't trust myself because of what I thought I did to Angelina. I questioned myself that if I could rape her when I thought I loved her then what other horrific thing was I capable of. I still don't know how I feel about finding out that I was the one that was actually raped and not even in a conventional way. Who drugs someone just to collect their sperm to artificially inseminate a woman to guarantee her pregnancy? It's unbelievable the amount of planning that went into this."

"Which is why Angelina will not be getting out of prison within this lifetime," Marianne mutters, brushing her right hand through Bog's hair. "There is absolutely no way she can claim innocence or that she was forced into this. Now, back to the facts. Facts being that they knew that the Mcgallrighs hold closely to family, even an illegitimate child, and knew that there was no way that you would agree to an abortion. They manipulated your feelings into agreeing to everything they wanted."

"Almost everything," he chuckles. "Thanks to Basil's tenacity, they didn't get both lads and they didn't get as much money as they were trying to get out of me. He was quite embarrassed about all the praise he had gotten from everybody today but everyone was right about him being a hero. It would have gone much worse had he not believed in me all these years."

"So believe in yourself," she remarks. "There was nothing you could've done. As Griselda said, you've tried the best you could and that's all anyone can ask."

Bog hugs her closer to him and leans fully back into his recliner. It still felt cowardly to let himself off the hook. Maybe he'll be able to with a little more time. Everything is still raw and maybe after a little while then he'll be able to accept it all.

"It might take a while but I'll try," he comments, before deciding to change the subject. "So, what did the lads want to talk to ye about that was so important that they left Maw and I stuck driving home with the cranky birds?"

"Nothing secretive," she admits. "For starters, they know that you're having a bit of trouble adjusting to everything that's been exposed and they wanted to make sure that I wasn't going anywhere. I assured them that they are stuck with me. They also wanted my help."

"Help for what," Bog questions suspiciously?

"Bhaltair wants to work at Firth Construction full-time for the rest of the year," Marianne starts. "I know you want the boys to go to university, they do too, but Bhaltair doesn't want to go until Beathan is ready and Beathan doesn't want to go until he has no trouble with using the prosthetics. Even if Beathan can catch up on the testing and graduate in a few weeks, leaving him enough time to enroll in the university for this year, he still won't get his permanent prosthetics until at least September."

"And they thought I wouldn't understand," he sighs sadly?

"That's not it," she reassures. "You've been under a lot of stress lately, even more than after the accident, and they don't want to stress you out any more. I was to gauge how you're feeling and then tell them when it's a good time to tell you. I just figured that I'll tell you straight up and then you three can figure out all the details later. One of those details being that Beathan wants to work as well but he won't bring it up because he's still unsure about what he can do."

"I'll talk to the lads about it tomorrow on the way back to the gathering. That is if ye don't mind taking Maw with ye," Bog hints, getting her agreement. "I don't want the lads to be afraid to talk to me but I guess it's understandable with everything they've had to deal with. I can't even begin to imagine their pain at finding out that their mother only got pregnant with them to blackmail me."

"You're their hero, Bog. You've always been their hero, even when they were mad and upset at you," Marianne comments before giving him a short kiss. "They've always known that their mother didn't care about them, so Angelina's confession didn't give them any more pain than what they already have concerning her. But you, Bog, you kept reassuring them that it didn't matter, that they are still your sons and that you don't care how or why they were born. You proved that you love them and that you've always loved them. They just want to give you the time you need to heal from all the hurt you've been carrying all these years."

"Most of the hurt was just because of seeing my lads in pain. I'll make sure we talk everything completely out tomorrow, even if it means getting to the gathering a little late because we have to take a longer drive," he remarks. "How's yer family doing? I noticed that ye got a call while I was in the shower after we got home."

"Their flight had just land and Dad called to say they got there fine. He said that Dawn and Sunny had snored the whole way home," she chuckles. "They managed to wear themselves out with all the sightseeing and catching up."

"Ye mean that it's possible for Dawn to fall asleep," Bog asks in mock disbelief?

He joins her laughter at the memory of the blonde-haired ball of energy. It was a good thing that Marianne was already discharged from the infirmary when the plane carrying her mother and sister had arrived but maybe it would have prevented Dawn from eagerly hugging her sister tightly, forgetting the shoulder wound. Bog had thought that her enthusiasm had stemmed from not seeing her sister in so long...that thought was abolished quickly when her attention was turned to him.

The elder blonde-haired woman had nearly as much energy as her youngest daughter but that was turned to lecturing her husband about getting into a fight at his age before lecturing her eldest daughter for being too much like her father and taking too many risks. Both women had spared Sunny from any lectures since, as they said, there was no way he could've stopped the Dynamite Duo once they got in proximity to each other. Said duo had only laughed about the underlying complaint.

It was delightful to see Marianne so happy after nearly knocking on death's door. Even if it meant that he didn't spend as much time with her because her attention was divided between her family and helping his sons. They did manage to get some time alone during their nightly ritual when everyone went to sleep. 'Or dates as Bhaltair and Beathan keep calling it,' he chuckles silently.

"At least I did reconnect with my family in time to go to Dawn and Sunny's wedding next month," Marianne murmurs. "I don't know how long it would have taken me to pluck up the courage to call home if it wasn't for Tavers' interference and I might have missed my baby sister's big day."

"I highly doubt that. In fact, I bet ye that ye probably would have contacted them by either this week or the next," Bog comments.

"And what makes you so sure about that? I didn't even start missing them until a few weeks ago," she mutters.

"Because ye started missing them, therefore, ye were ready," he points out. "They don't blame ye for leaving or for even being gone for so long, so ye shouldn't do so yerself. Besides, had ye returned home like ye were planning then that bampot's treachery might not have been discovered until it was too late. Or had ye returned home even after a few years then ye might have moved back there permanently and we might not have even met until long after my lads left, if at all."

Bog withholds a shiver at the thought of what could have happened with just a little difference. To not meet Marianne seemed more horrific than anything Angelina had done to him. Being mindful of her shoulder, he hugs Marianne closer to him and places a kiss on her forehead.

It doesn't matter. Everything did happen the way it happened and now, Marianne is with him. They even confessed their love for each other a few days ago at Coille Dorcha. He would have thought that he was having a perfect dream but the screams of joy from a multitude of spies was not something he would have dreamed up.

"Yer da and I talked quite a bit when I was showing him around Caisteal Coille Dorcha," he continues. "He told me about the heart bond that he told ye growing up and it's actually something we believe as well. The Mcgallrighs believe that the heart bond even transcends death and that we're all connected to one another."

"That sounds suspiciously like Jason's claim that Gallrigh called for me," Marianne remarks.

"Maybe he did," Bog quips. "Stranger things have happened in life. Is it that hard to believe that the bond connecting our hearts to one another is strong enough to make sure certain events happen to cause two people to meet? I mean, not the bad events that caused heartaches but the events that don't let the heartache to last for forever."

"Sometimes, certain heartache is good," she corrects, remembering a conversation with her parents a few days ago. "I mean, if I hadn't of caught Roland that day then I would have married him even though I knew I didn't love him because I thought my parents wanted it. But they didn't. They were just worried about me being alone and wanted someone to stand by my side that I could lean on for comfort and strength. Even if he didn't turn out to be a complete jerk, Roland wasn't that man, but you are and my heart is sure of that."

Bog eagerly returns her kiss, happier than he's ever been. They both have pain and problems in the past to let go of, but he knows that they'll be able to do it together. After all, they have a future together to look forward to and his own heart is sure of that.


	29. Epilogue

Marianne hums out a tune as she kneads the dough on the table, taking only a short break to rub her left shoulder. She shakes out the cramping feeling before returning to her work and letting her mind drift back to that fateful year.

How could she have known walking into the ICU ward that day would change her entire life? Just an average day at work had changed in an instant with a routine call to investigate an accident. Staring into three pairs of heartbroken crystal-blue eyes and her heart had refused to let her turn away. She couldn't have walked away had she tried.

The more time she had spent with Bog and Beathan, the more she felt compelled to be with them. Her moving into the house to help them out had seemed perfect and right, and it was. Confronting Bhaltair was slightly nervewracking but only because she was preparing herself to leave him in his mother's house when all she wanted to do was take him back to his father. Then everything felt right in the world when Bhaltair asked if he could actually stay the night at his dad's.

The resulting painful conversation couldn't diminish her joy at seeing the father and sons happily talking to one another. Or her joy the next day when Bhaltair announced that he wasn't going to reject his father like Bog had feared and wanted to move in.

Everything seemed to go fast from there. Her flat being broken into, Angelina filing the rape charges, Sunny showing up out of nowhere, and her dad being arrested.

Confronting her own past was hard and painful but completely worth it in the end. Especially hearing her father's approval at her life and his approval in the man she had fallen in love with.

'Then all hell broke loose,' Marianne sighs. Her shoulder offers another twinge at the memory at taking the bullet meant to kill Beathan as she divides the dough and smacks the air out of them. Despite its occasional complaint, she did regain most of her mobility, even if it did restrict her from returning to Police Scotland. It was a small price to pay as far as she was concerned and taking that bullet was something that she would certainly do again.

Angelina did not fair as lucky from her swift retribution. Then again, Angelina didn't fair as lucky for anything and all thanks to that picture that she used to blackmail Bog.

Jason had wasted no time when she had given him that evidence and had hunted down Albert Conner, who had caved under his questionings. Catching Jock Tavers was a little more difficult with his connections to the city's drug users but the crooked solicitor had done the police's job for them when he angered her father. He had proven to be a harder man to break but Jason merely used his own evidence that he submitted to the High Court against him and the coward decided that he wasn't going down alone.

No one still has any ideas how Angelina managed to evade arrest but considering she was high on ecstasy when the infirmary admitted her, it wouldn't be that hard to guess that one of the druggies that they've been using as spies may have given her the tip.

At least everything was settled now. Angelina had so many charges against her that there is no way she could get out of prison. Jock Tavers is dealing with his own long prison sentence for cooperating with the whole scheme and for the other illegal activities that he was a part of. The courts didn't even go easy on Albert Conner for not exposing the crime when he had full knowledge of it. Not that his wife went easy on him either when it was discovered that he's been having an affair with Angelina longer than their entire marriage.

It was unfortunate that their scheme had worked so well for so long but it didn't take long for Bog, Bhaltair, and Beathan to mend the damage. They had gotten closer than they were before and the twins are nearly inseparable now.

Glancing at the clock, Marianne sighs roughly and covers the rising dough before removing the flour-covered apron off her enlarged stomach. She quickly washes her hands and puts her wedding band back on, trying not to check the clock again.

"Thinking about all of that isn't helping, you know," she scolds herself.

"Are ye alright," Bog questions softly, closing the patio screen door behind him?

Marianne smiles at her husband as he crosses the distance to take her in his arms. The ever-doting man gives her a kiss before rubbing his hands down her back. His talented fingers know just how to get those stubborn knots out and she sighs in contentment before pushing his hands away. The cheeky man also knows what that does to her and they don't need to be walked in on.

"I'm alright," Marianne reassures, taking a seat in a chair. "I just can't help but worry a little."

"I know," he murmurs. "I still say we need to lock the lads in their rooms on this day and then we wouldn't have to worry."

"That would not go well," she chuckles.

"Maybe not," Bog concedes with a grin.

Giving her another kiss, Bog heads to the refrigerator and pulls out a few apples. The demanding beaks get their fair share of the fruit as it's being cut up before Bog shoos them away and offers the plate to his pregnant wife.

"I heard the phone ringing from the office," he comments, sitting down next to her. "How's yer da doing?"

"Today is a good day. He misses Mom but," Marianne starts, pausing to wipe a few tears away. "He's doing better than when she passed a few months ago. We were talking a bit about today's anniversary and everything that came from it. What happened to Beathan was terrible but is it cruel of me that I'm kind of glad that that whole mess happened?"

"No. Because it's not the mess that happened that is making ye happy but the good that came from it," Bog remarks. "A lot of good came out of that terrible experience, one being that ye made new memories with yer maw before she died and that's one less regret laying on ye. Besides, the year ended very good."

Marianne chuckles at the husky tone her husband's voice takes at the last part. He is right, of course. The year did turn out to be a very good year despite the troubled first half of it.

Reconnecting with her family was a big part of it for her and she holds back more tears at the remembrance of Dawn and Sunny's wedding at Coille Dorcha Castle. It was such a beautiful time, especially with Bog accompanying her there and proudly declaring to his American relatives about their own engagement. They had thoroughly enjoyed their week without the matchmaking trio and the feathered duo around, even if they did check in with Griselda and the twins each day to make sure that they were okay.

Things had only gotten better when she and Bog returned home. Not only had Bhaltair and Beathan expressed missing her with the same degree as to their father but both had hesitantly asked if they could call her their mother. She had happily agreed and even admitted that she secretly thought of them as her sons. It wasn't much of a secret since Bog and Griselda had felt that she did, hence their grandmother's encouragement for them to give voice to their desire.

Her own wedding to Bog at Caisteal Coille Dorcha was postponed until after she was able to use her left arm two months later but that was more for the look of pure joy on Beathan's face when he helped his brother walk her down the aisle to their father than for her own comfort. She and Bog wanted to make sure that the brothers knew that their marriage wouldn't exclude them and the twins were so happy to be included in the ceremony.

"A lot of good did come out of it," she repeats before groaning as she checks the clock again. "If only my mind will let me focus on the good instead of on that stupid clock."

"Forget yer mind and focus on yer heart," Bog instructs, brushing out the flour that managed to get into her brown hair. "The lads are okay. Beathan probably tried to drag Bhaltair away from Jean and didn't succeed quick enough."

"Bhaltair did invite her to the gathering this year and like Jason quipped when you invited me to the gathering that year, 'that's as good as a marriage proposal'," Marianne snickers. "Griselda said that she's positive that Bhaltair and Jean will be announcing their own wedding plans soon. She also..."

"We're home," Beathan announces!

"Where have you two been," Marianne growls as the pair walk into the kitchen?

The twenty-three-year-old twins turn sheepish at her question and ruffle their red and black hair respectively. Their father's muffled laughter doesn't help.

"Sorry, Maw," Bhaltair murmurs, kissing her cheek. "Jean's later classes were canceled so we waited until her last class was finished so she didn't have to take the bus home."

"Jean lives down the road, so you shouldn't have been this late," Marianne comments.

"We also took a one of her classmates home, Maw," Beathan admits, kissing her other cheek.

"Kissy-kissy! Kissy-kissy!"

"I know, Imp," Bhaltair chuckles, holding out his arm for the younger male Major Mitchell's cockatoo to walk onto it. "Here you go, lad."

Imp squeals and clicks as Bhaltair scratches through his feathers, paying no mind as his mother flies next to him and demands her own scratches. Bog chuckles at Plum's impatience and calls her to him instead. The female cockatoo quickly obeys but not before tugging one of her son's feathers.

"Imp isn't going to be happy when ye move away," Beathan mutters as he sits down and loosens the straps on his prosthetics.

"Move away," Bog repeats, ignoring Plum's complaint at the lack of scratches?

"You wally," Bhaltair growls at his twin. "It's nothing, Dad, it's just talk."

"Just talk usually leads to something more," Marianne points out. "Have you and Jean been talking?"

"A little but nothing too serious," Bhaltair admits.

"Sounded serious from where I was sitting in the driver's seat," Beathan argues. "Kimberly also mentioned that Jean has been talking about getting married before starting her nursing career."

Beathan snickers at his brother's red face and turn his attention to rubbing his leg stubs. The pain may be a distant memory after five years but man, could they get itchy after several hours of being confined. Puck finally abandons his television and flies onto Beathan's chair backing, snagging another apple slice from the plate before demanding attention.

"It's just talk," Bhaltair insists before mumbling. "Jean and I don't want to move too far away from our families and there aren't any houses up for sale or rent nearby."

"Is that what's holding ye up? Ye should have said something," Bog chides gently. "Yer granda built this house on plenty of land and there's more than enough room for another house or two. If ye want, we can look at some plans after dinner, the both of ye."

"I ain't getting married anytime soon, Da," Beathan chuckles, giving Puck his scratches.

"Are you sure about that? You and Kimberly were awfully friendly," Bhaltair teases.

"We just met," Beathan defends, his cheeks a bright red!

"True...but you've never let a stranger examine your prosthetics before," Bhaltair points out. "And don't claim it's to help her studies because Jean said that Kimberly is studying to be a lab technician."

Marianne shares a look with her husband at Beathan's embarrassment and hides a knowing smile. 'The heart knows better than the head,' she muses. The starting argument between the twins makes Marianne chuckle at the reminder of that fateful day when Bog had commented that they argued constantly.

"You two may have explained why it took you so long to get home but you didn't explain why you couldn't call. You know we worry when you're out driving on this particular day," Marianne murmurs.

"Sorry, Maw," Beathan murmurs. "We would've called but we didn't know what time Granda was calling and we didn't want to interrupt. Plus, we thought that it wouldn't take us too long to get home but there was a minor collision on Kimberly's road."

"It wasn't bad and we weren't involved," Bhaltair hastily reassures at the worried looks! "Just a dafty prat not paying attention to the car in front of him. The traffic officer recognized us and told us to get home before you worried yourself into a tizzy. Anyway, how's Granda, Uncle Sunny, and Aunt Dawn?"

"Everyone is doing good," Marianne answers. "In fact, Dawn had her baby girl last night."

"Last night? I thought you said that Dawn wasn't due for another three weeks," Bog comments.

"The doctor guessed the due date wrong and Dawn had ignored what she thought was fake contractions until it was too late," Marianne snickers. "Baby Melody Fritz took center stage when Dawn's water broke as she and Sunny were singing at Three Little Birds yesterday. Dad said that one minute Dawn was singing and the next, she cursed mid-song. Melody was born before the medics even arrived at the club."

"Naming her Melody was appropriate," Bog laughs.

"So is naming this one Kenna," Griselda chuckles, opening the patio screen door to let the four-year-old in. "She's definitely fire-born alright."

"Bhalti! Bea-Bea! Ye're back," Kenna squeals, crawling onto Beathan's lap!

"Yep, school is all done for today," Bhaltair remarks, picking twigs out of the long dark auburn hair. "What have you and Gran been doing?"

"Gardenin," Kenna giggles, showing her dirty hands.

"I've been gardening but Kenna found that old fort ye two made underneath the hedges," Griselda corrects.

Kenna giggles more as her eldest brother picks her up to carry her to the sink to wash her hands while Imp happily chews on one of the twigs from on top of Bhaltair's shoulder. The little girl doesn't permit it long and wiggles out of Bhaltair's grip before he manages to fully rinse her hands. She runs as fast as she can with the red-head in hot pursuit and Beathan quickly attaches his prosthetics before moving to assist his twin.

"Get back here, you little wildfire. You need to wash your hands," Bhaltair growls playfully.

"No, no! Fire don't like water," Kenna remarks.

Marianne joins Bog and Griselda in laughter as Kenna manages to avoid Bhaltair before squealing as Beathan picks her up. A lot has changed since that fateful day. Four sets of crystal-blue eyes sparkling with love and laughter are proof of that.

The End


End file.
